£x  Jjbris 

UNIVERSITY  OF   CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


Collection  of 

Children's  Books 


CHILDREN'S  BOOK  j| 

COLLECTION 

*  § 

* 
LIBRARY  OF  THE 

IVERSITY   OF   CALIFORNIA        * 
LOS  ANGELES 


THE 

ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER. 


THE    ADVENTURES 


OF 


TOM     SAWYER 


BY 

MARK    TWAIN. 


THE    AMERICAN     PUBLISHING    COMPANY, 

HARTFORD,    CONN.:    CHICAGO,    ILL.:    CINCINNATI,    OHIO. 

A.  ROMAN  &  CO.,  SAN  FRANCISCO,  CAL. 

1876. 


COPYRIGHT 

BY  SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 

1875-   . 
All  Rights  Reserved. 


To 

MY    WIFE 
THIS  BOOK 

is 
AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED. 


PREFACE. 


Most  of  the  adventures  recorded  in  this  book  really  occurred ;  one  or  two  were 
experiences  of  my  own,  the  rest  those  of  boys  who  were  schoolmates  of  mine. 
Huck  Finn  is  drawn  from  life  ;  Tom  Sawyer  also,  but  not  from  an  individual — he 
is  a  combination  of  the  characteristics  of  three  boys  whom  I  knew,  and  therefore 
belongs  to  the  composite  order  of  architecture. 

The  odd  superstitions  touched  upon  were  all  prevalent  among  children  and  slaves 
in  the  West  at  the  period  of  this  story — that  is  to  say,  thirty  or  forty  years  ago. 

Although  my  book  is  intended  mainly  for  the  entertainment  of  boys  and  girls,  I 
hope  it  will  not  be  shunned  by  men  and  women  on  that  account,  for  part  of  my 
plan  has  been  to  try  to  pleasantly  remind  adults  of  what  they  once  were  them- 
selves, and  of  how  they  felt  and  thought  and  talked,  and  what  queer  enterprises 

they  sometimes  engaged  in. 

THE  AUTHOR. 

HARTFORD,  1876. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 
Y-o-u-u  Tom — Aunt  Polly  Decides  Upon  her  Duty — Tom  Practices  Music — The  Challenge — 

A  Private  Entrance 17 

CHAPTER  II. 
Strong  Temptations— Strategic  Movements — The  Innocents  Beguiled 26 

CHAPTER  III. 
Tom  as  a  General — Triumph  and  Reward — Dismal  Felicity — Commission  and  Omission. ...     33 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Mental  Acrobatics— Attending  Sunday-School— The  Superintendent — "Showing  off"— Tom 

Lionized 42 

CHAPTER  V. 
A  Useful  Minister— In  Church— The  Climax 53 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Self -Examination  —  Dentistry—  The    Midnight    Charm —Witches    and    Devils  —  Cautious 

Approaches  —  Happy  Hours  60 

CHAPTER  VII. 
A  Treaty  Entered   Into— Early  Lessons— A  Mistake  Made 72 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Tom  Decides  on  his  Course — Old  Scenes  Re-enacted 79 

CHAPTER  IX. 
A  Solemn  Situation — Grave  Subjects  Introduced — Injun  Joe  Explains 85 

.    CHAPTER  X. 
The  Solemn  Oath— Terror  Brings  Repentance— Mental  Punishment 93 


XII  CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER  XI. 
Muff  Potter  Comes  Himself — Tom's  Conscience  at  Work 101 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Tom  Shows  his   Generosity — Aunt  Polly  Weakens 107 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
The  Young  Pirates— Going  to  the  Rendezvous— The  Camp-Fire  Talk 113 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Camp-Life — A  Sensation — Tom  Steals  Away  from  Camp . 121 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Tom  Reconnoiters— Learns  the  Situation — Reports  at  Camp 128 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
A  Day's  Amusements — Tom  Reveals  a  Secret — The  Pirates  take  a  Lesson — A  Night  Surprise 

— An  Indian  War 134 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
Memories  of  the  Lost  Heroes — The  Point  in  Tom's  Secret 144 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Tom's  Feelings  Investigated  —  Wonderful  Dream — Becky  Thatcher  Overshadowed — Tom 

Becomes  Jealous — Black  Revenge ,. 148 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
Tom  Tells  the  Truth 158 

CHAPTER  XX. 
Becky  in  a  Dilemma — Tom's  Nobility  Asserts  Itself. 161 

CHAPTER  XXL 
Youthful  Eloquence — Compositions  by  the  Young   Ladies — A  Lengthy  Vision — The   Boy's 

Vengeance  Satisfied 167 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Tom's  Confidence  Betrayed — Expects  Signal  Punishment 176 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
Old  Muff 's  Friends— Muff  Potter  in  Court— Muff  Potter  Saved 181 


CONTENTS.  XIII 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
Tom  as  the  Village  Hero — Days  of  Splendor  and  Nights  of  Horror — Pursuit  of  Injun  Joe 189 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
About  Kings  and  Diamonds — Search  for  the  Treasure — Dead  People  and  Ghosts 191 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
The  Haunted  House— Sleepy  Ghosts— A  Box  of  Gold— Bitter  Luck 199 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 
Doubts  to  be  Settled — The  Young  Detectives 208 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
An  Attempt  at  No.  Two — Huck  Mounts  Guard 212 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 
The  Pic-nie — Huck  on  Injun  Joe's  Track — The  "  Revenge  "  Job — Aid  for  the  Widow 217 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
The  Welchman  Reports— Huck  Under  Fire— The  Story  Circulated— A  New  Sensation— Hope 

Giving  Way  to  Despair .  226 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

• 
An  Exploring  Expedition — Trouble  Commences — Lost  in  the  Cave — Total  Darkness — Found 

but  not  Saved .'..   236 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 
Tom  tells  the  Story  of  their  Escape — Tom's  Enemy  in  Safe  Quarters 247 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

The  Fate  of  Injun  Joe — Huck  and  Tom  Compare  Notes — An  Expedition  to  the  Cave — Pro- 
tection Against  Ghosts—"  An  Awful  Snug  Place"— A  Reception  at  the  Widow  Douglas's,  252 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 
Springing  a  Secret — Mr.  Jones'  Surprise  a  Failure 264 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 
A  New  Order  of  Things— Poor  Huck— New  Adventures  Planned 268 

CONCLUSION 275 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Tom  Sawyer      .         .        .        Frontispiece 

PAGE 
17 

18 
19 

23 

25 
26 
28 
30 
32 
33 
34 
35 
36 
38 
39 
39 
40 
4i 
42 
44 
45 
47 
ST 
52 
53 
54 
55 
57 
58 
59 
60 
63 
64 
67 
69 

PAGE 
.             .          7O 

Interrupted  Courtship 

.          71 

Aunt  Polly  Beguiled           .... 
A  Good  Opportunity          .... 

Tail  Piece          .... 
The  Grave  in  the  Woods  . 

.        .      78 
.       79 
81 

'Tendin'  to  Business                             • 

Robin  Hood  and  his  Foe  . 
Death  of  Robin  Hood 
Midnight    
Tom's  Mode  of  Egress 
Tom's  Effort  at  Prayer 
Muff  Potter  Outwitted 
The  Graveyard 

.        .       83 
.        .      84 
.        .      85 
.      86 
.      88 
.      91 
.      92 

Q-5 

Becky  Thatcher          

After  the  Battle          ..... 

Mary           

Disturbing  Muff's  Sleep    . 
Tom's  Talk  with  his  Aunt 
Muff  Potter       .... 
A  Suspicious  Incident 
Injun  Joe's  two  Victims    . 
In  the  Coils        .... 
Peter           
Aunt  Polly  seeks  Information   . 
A  General  Good  Time 
Demoralized      .... 

.                 .             98 

.      TOO 
.      IOI 
.      IO2 

.     103 
.     106 

.    107 

.     108 
.        .    no 

.      112 

Tom  Contemplating           .... 

Boyhood              
Using  the  "  Barlow  "          .... 

Tom  as  a  Sunday-School  Hero 

The  Model  Boy 

On  Board  Their  First  Prize 
The  Pirates  Ashore    .                 . 

.      II? 

.     118 

The  Church  Choir 

A  Side  Show       

Wild  Life  ..... 
The  Pirate's  Bath 

.      121 
121 

Result  of  Playing  in  Church     . 
The  Pinch-Bug  
Sid     
Dentistry    

The  Pleasant  Stroll 

.           .124 

The  Search  for  the  Drowned     . 
The  Mysterious  Writing  . 
River  View 

.      125 
.      127 

128 

Mother  Hopkins        
Result  of  Tom's  Truthfulness  . 

What  Tom  Saw 

.           .      I3O 

Tom  Swims  the  River 

•      133 

XVI 


ILL  USTRA  TIONS. 


PAGE 

Taking  Lessons 134 

The  Pirates'  Egg  Market  .  .  .  .135 
Tom  Looking  for  Joe's  Knife  .  .  .  139 
The  Thunder  Storm  .  .  .  .141 

Terrible  Slaughter 143 

The  Mourner     .         .         .         .         .         .     144 

Tom's  Proudest  Moment  .        .        .        .147 

Amy  Lawrence 148 

Tom  tries  to  Remember    .        .        .        .150 

The  Hero 152 

A  Flirtation 154 

Becky  Retaliates 155 

A  Sudden  Frost 156 

Counter-irritation 157 

Aunt  Polly         .        .        .        .        .        .158 

Tom  Justified     ......     160 

The  Discovery i6i 

Caught  in  the  Act 163 

Tom  Astonishes  the  School       .        .        .     165 

Literature 166 

Tom  Declaims  .         .         .         .         .     167 

Examination  Evening        ....     168 

On  Exhibition 170 

Prize  Authors     .         .         .         .         .         .     173 

The  Master's  Dilemma      ....     174 

The  School  House 175 

The  Cadet '.176 

Happy  for  Two  Days  ....  177 
Enjoying  the  Vacation  ....  178 
The  Stolen  Melons  .....  180 

The  Judge 181 

Visiting  the  Prisoner  .  .  .  .184 
Tom  Swears  .  .  .  .  .  .186 

The  Court  Room 188 

The  Detective 189 

Tom  Dreams      ......     190 

The  Treasure     ......     191 

The  Private  Conference     ....     192 

A  King  ;  Poor  Fellow  !  194 

Business     .......     195 

The  Ha'nted  House 198 

Injun  Joe igg 

The  Greatest  and  Best  .  .  .  .200 
Hidden  Treasures  Unearthed  .  .  .  205 


The  Boy's  Salvation  . 
Room  No.  2        ... 
The  Next  Day's  Conference 
Treasures 
Uncle  Jake 
Huck  at  Home 
The  Haunted  Room 
"  Run  for  Your  Life  " 
McDougal's  Cave       . 
Inside  the  Cave 


PAGE 

.  207 

.  208 

.  209 

.  211 

.  212 

.  213 

.  214 

.  216 

.  217 

.  220 

Huck  on  Duty 221 

A  Rousing  Act 224. 

Tail  Piece 225 

The  Welchman          .....  226 

Result  of  a  Sneeze 227 

Cornered 229 

Alarming  Discoveries         ....  232 

Tom  and  Becky  stir  up  the  Town     .        .  233 

Tom's  Marks 234 

Huck  Questions  the  Widow      .        .         .  235 

Vampires    .......  236 

Wonders  of  the  Cave         ....  237 

Attacked  by  Natives          .        .        .        .238 

Despair 240 

The  Wedding  Cake 242 

A  New  Terror 245 

Daylight 247 

"  Turn  Out "  to  Receive  Tom  and  Becky  248 

The  Escape  from  the  Cave         .         .         .  249 
Fate  of  the  Ragged  Man  .         .         .         .251 

The  Treasures  Found        ....  252 

Caught  at  Last 253 

Drop  after  Drop 254 

Having  a  Good  Time         ....  255 

A  Business  Trip 257 

"Got  it  at  Last !" 261 

Tail  Piece 263 

Widow  Douglas 264 

Tom  Backs  his  Statement          .        .        .266 

Tail  Piece 267 

Huck  Transformed 268 

Comfortable  Once  More    .         .         .         .271 

High  up  in  Society 273 

Contentment 274 


No  answer. 

"  TOM  ! " 

No  answer. 

"What's  gone  with  that  boy,  I 
wonder?  You  TOM  ! " 

No  answer. 

The  old  lady  pulled  her  spectacles 
down  and  looked  over  them  about 
the  room ;  then  she  put  them  up  and 
looked  out  under  them.  She  seldom 
or  never  looked  through  them  for  so 
small  a  thing  as  a  boy  ;  they  were  her 
state  pair,  the  pride  of  her  heart,  and 
were  built  for  "style,"  not  service — 
she  could  have  seen  through  a  pair 
of  stove  lids  just  as  well.  She 
looked  perplexed  for  a  moment,  and 
then  said,  not  fiercely,  but  still  loud  enough  for  the  furniture  to  hear: 


i8 


TOM  SA  WYER 


"Well,  I  lay  if  I  get  hold  of  you  I'll—" 

She  did  not  finish,  for  by  this  time  she  was  bending  down  and  punching 
under  the  bed  with  the  broom,  and  so  she  needed  breath  to  punctuate  -the 
punches  with.     She  resurrected  nothing  but  the  cat. 
"  I  never  did  see  the  beat  of  that  boy !  " 

She  went  to  the  open  door  and  stood  in  it  and  looked  out  among  the  tomato 
vines  and  " jimpson "  weeds  that  constituted  the  garden.     No  Tom.     So  she 
lifted  up  her  voice  at  an  angle  calculated  for  dis- 
tance, and  shouted : 
"  Y-o-u-u  Tom  !  " 

There  was  a  slight  noise  behind  her  and  she 
turned  just  in  time  to  seize  a  small  boy  by  the 
slack  of  his  roundabout  and  arrest  his  flight. 

"  There !     I   might   'a'  thought  of  that  closet. 
What  you  been  doing  in  there  ?  " 
"  Nothing." 

"  Nothing!     Look  at  your  hands.    And  look  at 
your  mouth.     What  is  that  truck?  " 
"/don't  know,  aunt." 

"  Well,  /  know.  It's  jam — that's  what  it  is. 
Forty  times  I've  said  if  you  didn't  let  tljat  jam 
alone  I'd  skin  you.  Hand  me  that  switch." 

The  switch  hovered  in  the  air — the  peril  was 
desperate — 

"  My !     Look  behind  you,  aunt !  " 
The  old  lady  whirled  round,  and  snatched  her 
skirts    out    of  danger.      The    lad    fled,    on     the 
instant,  scrambled  up  the  high  board-fence,  and 
AUNT  POLLY  BEGUILED.  disappeared  over  it. 

His  aunt  Polly  stood  surprised  a  moment,  and  then  broke  into  a  gentle  laugh. 

"Hang  the  boy,  can't  I  never  learn  anything?     Ain't  he  played  me  tricks 

enough  like  that  for  me  to  be  looking  out  for  him  by  this  time  ?     But  old  fools 


A  UNT  POLL  Y  DECIDES  UPON  HER  DUTY. 


is  the  biggest  fools  there  is.  Can't  learn  an  old  dog  new  tricks,  as  the  saying  is. 
But  my  goodness,  he  never  plays  them  alike,  two  days,  and  how  is  a  body 
to  know  what's  coming?  He  'pears  to  know  just  how  long  he  can  torment  me 
before  I  get  my  dander  up,  and  he  knows  if  he  can  make  out  to  put  me  off  for  a 
minute  or  make  me  laugh,  it's  all  down  again  and  I  can't  hit  him  a  lick.  I 
ain't  doing  my  duty  by  that  boy,  and  that's  the  Lord's  truth,  goodness  knows. 
Spare  the  rod  and  spile  the  child,  as  the  Good  Book  says.  I'm  a  laying  up  sin 
and  suffering  for  us  both,  /  know.  He's  full  of  the  Old  Scratch,  but  laws-a-me ! 
he's  my  own  dead  sister's  boy,  poor  thing,  and  I  ain't  got  the  heart  to  lash  him, 
somehow.  Every  time  I  let  him  off,  my  conscience  does  hurt  me  so,  and  every 
time  I  hit  him  my  old  heart  most  breaks.  Well-a-well,  man  that  is  born  of 
woman  is  of  few  days  and  full  of  trouble,  as  the  Scripture  says,  and  I  reckon  it's 
so.  He'll  play  hookey  this  evening,  *  and  I'll  just  be  obleeged  to  make  him 
work,  tomorrow,  to  punish  him.  It's  mighty  hard  to  make  him  work  Saturdays, 
when  all  the  boys  is  having  holiday,  but  he  hates  work  more  than  he  hates 
anything  else,  and  I've  got  to  do  some  of  my  duty  by  him,  or  I'll  be  the  ruina- 
tion of  the  child." 

Tom  did  play  hookey,  and  he  had  a  very  good  time.  He  got  back  home 
barely  in  season  to  help  Jim,  the  small  colored  boy,  saw  next-day's  wood  and 
split  the  kindlings  before  sup- 
per— at  least  he  was  there  in 
time  to  tell  his  adventures 
to  Jim  while  Jim  did  three- 
fourths  of  the  work.  Tom's 
younger  brother  (or  rather, 
half-brother)  Sid,  was  already 
through  with  his  part  of  the 
work  (picking  up  chips)  for 
he  was  a  quiet  boy,  and  had 
no  adventurous,  troublesome 

A  GOOD   OPPORTUNITY. 

ways. 
While  Tom  was  eating  his  supper,  and  stealing  sugar  as  opportunity  offered, 


*  South-western  for  "afternoon." 


TOM   SAWYER. 


Aunt  Polly  asked  him  questions  that  were  full  of  guile,,  and  very  deep — for  she 
wanted  to  trap  him  into  damaging  revealments.  Like  many  other  simple- 
hearted  souls,  it  was  her  pet  vanity  to  believe  she  was  endowed  with  a  talent 
for  dark  and  mysterious  diplomacy,  and  she  loved  to  contemplate  her  most 
transparent  devices  as  marvels  of  low  cunning.  Said  she: 

"Tom,  it  was  middling  warm  in  school,  warn't  it?" 

"  Yes'm." 

"Powerful  warm,  warn't  it?" 

"Yes'm." 

"Didn't  you  want  to  go  in  a-swimming,  Tom?  " 

A  bit  of  a  scare  shot  through  Tom — a  touch  of  uncomfortable  suspicion.  He 
searched  Aunt  Polly's  face,  but  it  told  him  nothing.  So  he  said: 

"No'm — well,  not  very  much." 

The  old  lady  reached  out  her  hand  and  felt  Tom's  shirt,  and  said : 

"But  you  ain't  too  warm  now,  though."  And  it  flattered  her  to  reflect  that 
she  had  discovered  that  the  shirt  was  dry  without  anybody  knowing  that  that 
was  what  she  had  in  her  mind.  But  in  spite  of  her,  Tom  knew  where  the  wind 
lay,  now.  So  he  forestalled  what  might  be  the  next  move : 

"  Some  of  us  pumped  on  our  heads — mine's  damp  yet.     See?  " 

Aunt  Polly  was  vexed  to  think  she  had  overlooked  that  bit  of  circumstantial 
evidence,  and  missed  a  trick.  Then  she  had  a  new  inspiration : 

"  Tom,  you  didn't  have  to  undo  your  shirt  collar  where  I  sewed  it,  to  pump 
on  your  head,  did  you  ?  Unbutton  your  jacket!  " 

The  trouble  vanished  out  of  Tom's  face.  He  opened  his  jacket.  His  shirt 
collar  was  securely  sewed. 

"Bother!  Well,  go  'long  with  you.  I'd  made  sure  you'd  played  hookey  and 
been  a-swimming.  But  I  forgive  ye,  Tom.  I  reckon  you're  a  kind  of  a  singed 
cat,  as  the  saying  is — better'n  you  look.  This  time." 

She  was  half  sorry  her  sagacity  had  miscarried,  and  half  glad  that  Tom  had 
stumbled  into  obedient  conduct  for  once. 

But  Sidney  said: 

"Well,  now,  if  I  didn't  think  you  sewed  his  collar  with  white  thread,  but  it's 
black." 


TOM  PRACTICES  MUSIC.  21 


"  Why,  I  did  sew  it  with  white !     Tom ! " 

But  Tom  did  not  wait  for  the  rest.     As  he  went  out  at  the  door  he  said : 

"Siddy,  I'll  lick  you  for  that." 

In  a  safe  place  Tom  examined  two  large  needles  which  were  thrust  into  the 
lappels  of  his  jacket,  and  had  thread  bound  about  them — one  needle  carried 
white  thread  and  the  other  black.  He  said : 

"  She'd  never  noticed  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Sid.  Confound  it !  sometimes  she  sews 
it  with  white,  and  sometimes  she  sews  it  with  black.  I  wish  to  geeminy  she'd  stick 
to  one  or  t'other — /  can't  keep  the  run  of  'em.  But  I  bet  you  I'll  lam  Sid  for  that. 
I'll  learn  him  !  " 

He  was  not  the  Model  Boy  of  the  village.  He  knew  the  model  boy  very  well 
though — and  loathed  him. 

Within  two  minutes,  or  even  less,  he  had  forgotten  all  his  troubles.  Not  because 
his  troubles  were  one  whit  less  heavy  and  bitter  to  him  than  a  man's  are  to  a  man, 
but  because  a  new  and  powerful  interest  bore  them  down  and  drove  them  out  of 
his  mind  for  the  time — just  as  men's  misfortunes  are  forgotten  in  the  excitement  of 
new  enterprises.  This  new  interest  was  a  valued  novelty  in  whistling,  which  he 
had  just  acquired  from  a  negro,  and  he  was  suffering  to  practice  it  undisturbed.  It 
consisted  in  a  peculiar  bird-like  turn,  a  sort  of  liquid  warble,  produced  by  touching 
the  tongue  to  the  roof  of  the  mouth  at  short  intervals  in  the  midst  of  the  music — 
the  reader  probably  remembers  how  to  do  it,  if  he  has  ever  been  a  boy.  Diligence 
and  attention  soon  gave  him  the  knack  of  it,  and  he  strode  down  the  street  with  his 
mouth  full  of  harmony  and  his  soul  full  of  gratitude.  He  felt  much  as  an  astron- 
omer feels  who  has  discovered  a  new  planet — no  doubt,  as  far  as  strong,  deep, 
unalloyed  pleasure  is  concerned,  the  advantage  was  with  the  boy,  not  the  astronomer. 

The  summer  evenings  were  long.  It  was  not  dark,  yet.  Presently  Tom  checked 
his  whistle.  A  stranger  was  before  him — a  boy  a  shade  larger  than  himself.  A 
new  comer  of  any  age  or  either  sex  was  an  impressive  curiosity  in  the  poor  little 
shabby  village  of  St.  Petersburgh.  This  boy  was  well-dressed,  too — well-dressed  on 
a  week-day.  This  was  simply  astounding.  His  cap  was  a  dainty  thing,  his  close- 
buttoned  blue  cloth  roundabout  was  new  and  natty,  and  so  were  his  pantaloons. 
He  had  shoes  on — and  it  was  only  Friday.  He  even  wore  a  necktie,  a  bright  bit 


TOM  SAWYER. 


of  ribbon.  He  had  a  citified  air  about  him  that  ate  into  Tom's  vitals.  The  more 
Tom  stared  at  the  splendid  marvel,  the  higher  he  turned  up  his  nose  at  his  finery 
and  the  shabbier  and  shabbier  his  own  outfit  seemed  to  him  to  grow.  Neither  boy 
spoke.  If  one  moved,  the  other  moved — but  only  sidewise,  in  a  circle  ;  they  kept 
face  to  face  and  eye  to  eye  all  the  time.  Finally  Tom  said : 

"  I  can  lick  you  !  " 

"  I'd  like  to  see  you  try  it." 

"Well,  I  can  do  it." 

"  No  you  can't,  either." 

"Yes  I  can." 

"  No  you  can't." 

"lean." 

"  You  can't." 

"  Can !  " 

"  Can't !  " 

An  uncomfortable  pause.     Then  Tom  said : 

"  What's  your  name  ?  " 

"  'Tisn't  any  of  your  business,  maybe." 

"Well  I  'low  I'll  make  it  my  business." 

"  Well  why  don't  you  ?  " 

"  If  you  say  much  I  will." 

"Much — much — much.     There  now." 

"  Oh,  you  think  you're  mighty  smart,  don't  you  ?  I  could  lick  you  with  one 
hand  tied  behind  me,  if  I  wanted  to." 

"  Well  why  don't  you  do  it  ?     You  say  you  can  do  it." 

"  Well  I  willy  if  you  fool  with  me." 

"Oh  yes — I've  seen  whole  families  in  the  same  fix." 

"  Smarty  !     You  think  you're  some,  now,  don't  you  ?     Oh  what  a  hat !  " 

"  You  can  lump  that  hat  if  you  don't  like  it.  I  dare  you  to  knock  it  off— and 
anybody  that'll  take  a  dare  will  suck  eggs." 

"  You're  a  liar !  " 

"  You're  another." 


THE  CHALLENGE. 


"  You're  a  fighting  liar  and  dasn't  take  it  up." 
"Aw — take  a  walk  !  " 

"Say— if  you  give  me  much  more  of  your  sass  I'll  take  and  bounce  a  rock  off'n 
your  head." 


"  Oh,  of  course  you  will." 

"Well  I  will." 

"  Well  why  don't  you  do  it  then  ? 


What  do  you  keep  saying  you  will  for  ?    Why 
don't  you  do  it  ?   It's  because  you're  afraid." 
"  I  ain't  afraid." 
"You  are." 
"  I  ain't." 
"  You  are." 

Another  pause,  and  more  eyeing  and  sid- 
ling  around    each    other.     Presently   they 
were  shoulder  to  shoulder.    Tom  said : 
"  Get  away  from  here  !  " 
"Go  away  yourself!  " 
"I  won't." 
"/won't  either." 

So  they  stood,  each  with  a  foot  placed 
at  an  angle  as  a  brace,  and  both  shoving 
with  might  and  main,  and  glowering  at  each 
other  with  hate.  But  neither  could  get  an 
advantage.  After  struggling  till  both  were 
hot  and  flushed,  each  relaxed  his  strain  with 
WHO'S  AFRAID  ?  watchful  caution,  and  Tom  said : 

"You're  a  coward  and  a  pup.     I'll  tell  my  big  brother  on  you,  and  he  can  thrash 
you  with  his  little  finger,  and  I'll  make  him  do  it,  too." 

"  \Vhat  do  I  care  for  your  big  brother  ?     I've  got  a  brother  that's  bigger  than  he 
is — and  what's  more,  he  can  throw  him  over  that  fence,  too."    [Both  brothers  were 
imaginary.] 
"That's  a  lie." 


24  TOM  SAWYER. 


"  Your  saying  so  don't  make  it  so." 

Tom  drew  a  line  in  the  dust  with  his  big  toe,  and  said : 

"  I  dare  you  to  step  over  that,  and  I'll  lick  you  till  you  can't  stand  up.  Anybody 
that'll  take  a  dare  will  steal  sheep." 

The  new  boy  stepped  over  promptly,  and  said : 

"  Now  you  said  you'd  do  it,  now  let's  see  you  do  it." 

"  Don't  you  crowd  me  now;  you  better  look  out." 

"  Well,  you  said  you'd  do  it — why  don't  you  do  it  ?  " 

"By  jingo  !  for  two  cents  I  will  do  it." 

The  new  boy  took  two  broad  coppers  out  of  his  pocket  and  held  them  out  with 
derision.  Tom  struck  them  to  the  ground.  In  an  instant  both  boys  were  rolling 
and  tumbling  in  the  dirt,  gripped  together  like  cats;  and  for  the  space  of  a  minute 
they  tugged  and  tore  at  each  other's  hair  and  clothes,  punched  and  scratched 
each  other's  noses,  and  covered  themselves  with  dust  and  glory.  Presently  the 
confusion  took  form  and  through  the  fog  of  battle  Tom  appeared,  seated  astride  the 
new  boy,  and  pounding  him  with  his  fists. 

"  Holler  'nuff!  "  said  he. 

The  boy  only  struggled  to  free  himself.     He  was  crying, — mainly  from  rage. 

"Holler  'nuff!  " — and  the  pounding  went  on. 

At  last  the  stranger  got  out  a  smothered  "  'Nuff!  "  and  Tom  let  him  up  and  said : 

"  Now  that'll  learn  you.     Better  look  out  who  you're  fooling  with  next  time." 

The  new  boy  went  off  brushing  the  dust  from  his  clothes,  sobbing,  snuffling, 
and  occasionally  looking  back  and  shaking  his  head  and  threatening  what  he 
would  do  to  Tom  the  "next  time  he  caught  him  out."  To  which  Tom  responded 
with  jeers,  and  started  off  in  high  feather,  and  as  soon  as  his  back  was  turned  the 
new  boy  snatched  up  a  stone,  threw  it  and  hit  him  between  the  shoulders  and 
then  turned  tail  and  ran  like  an  antelope.  Tom  chased  the  traitor  home,  and  thus 
found  out  where  he  lived.  He  then  held  a  position  at  the  gate  for  some  time, 
daring  the  enemy  to  corne  outside,  but  the  enemy  only  made  faces  at  him  through 
the  window  and  declined.  At  last  the  enemy's  mother  appeared,  and  called  Tom 
a  bad,  vicious,  vulgar  child,  and  ordered  him  away.  So  he  went  away ;  but  he 
said  he  "  'lowed  "  to  '  'lay  "  for  that  boy. 


A  PRIVATE  ENTRANCE. 


He  got  home  pretty  late,  that  night,  and  when  he  climbed  cautiously  in  at  the 
window,  he  uncovered  an  ambuscade,  in  the  person  of  his  aunt ;  and  when  she 
saw  the  state  his  clothes  were  in  her  resolution  to  turn  his  Saturday  holiday  into 
-captivity  at  hard  labor  became  adamantine  in  its  firmness. 


morning    was 

come,  and  all  the  summer  world  was 
bright  and  fresh,  and  brimming  with 
life.  There  was  a  song  in  every  heart ;. 
and-  if  the  heart  was  young  the  music 
issued  at  the  lips.  There  was  cheer 
in  every  face  and  a  spring  in  every 
step.  The  locust  trees  were  in  bloom 
and  the  fragrance  of  the  blossoms 
filled  the  air.  Cardiff  Hill,  beyond 
the  Village  and  above  it,  was  green 
with  vegetation,  and  it  lay  just  far 
enough  away  to  seem  a  Delectable 
Land,  dreamy,  reposeful,  and  inviting. 
Tom  appeared  on  the  sidewalk  with 
a  bucket  of  whitewash  and  a  long- 
handled  brush.  He  surveyed  the 
fence,  and  all  gladness  left  him  and 
a  deep  melancholy  settled  down  upon  his  spirit.  Thirty  yards  of  board  fence 
nine  feet  high.  Life  to  him  seemed  hollow,  and  existence  but  a  burden.  Sighing. 

26 


STJfONG   TEMPTATIONS.  27 


he  dipped  his  brush  and  passed  it  along  the  topmost  plank ;  repeated  the 
operation;  did  it  again;  compared  the  insignificant  whitewashed  streak  with  the 
far-reaching  continent  of  unwhitewashed  fence,  and  sat  down  on  a  tree-box  dis- 
couraged. Jim  came  skipping  out  at  the  gate  with  a  tin  pail,  and  singing  "  Buffalo 
Gals."  Bringing  water  from  the  town  pump  had  always  been  hateful  work  in 
Tom's  eyes,  before,  but  now  it  did  not  strike  him  so.  He  remembered  that  there 
was  company  at  the  pump.  White,  mulatto,  and  negro  boys  and  girls  were  always- 
there  waiting  their  turns,  resting,  trading  playthings,  quarreling,  fighting,- skylark- 
ing. And  he  remembered  that  although  the  pump  was  only  a  hundred  and  fifty 
yards  off,  Jim  never  got  back  with  a  bucket  of  water  under  an  hour — and  even 
then  somebody  generally  had  to  go  after  him.  Tom  said : 

"Say,  Jim,  I'll  fetch  the  water  if  you'll  whitewash  some." 

Jim  shook  his  head  and  said : 

"  Can't,  Mars  Tom.  Ole  missis,  she  tole  me  I  got  to  go  an'  git  dis  water  an'  not 
stop  foolin'  roun'  wid  anybody.  She  say  she  spec'  Mars  Tom  gwine  to  ax  me  to 
whitewash,  an'  so  she  tole  me  go'  'long  an'  'tend  to  my  own  business — she  'lowed 
she'd  'tend  to  de  whitewashin'." 

"  Oh,  never  you  mind  what  she  said,  Jim.  That's  the  way  she  always  talks. 
Gimme  the  bucket — I  won't  be  gone  only  a  minute.  She  won't  ever  know." 

"  Oh,  I  dasn't  Mars  Tom.  Ole  missis  she'd  take  an'  tar  de  head  off n  me. 
'Deed  she  would." 

u  She .'  She  never  licks  anybody — whacks  'em  over  the  head  with  her  thimble 
— and  who  cares  for  that,  I'd  like  to.  know.  She  talks  awful,  but  talk  don't  hurt 
— anyways  it  don't  if  she  don't  cry.  Jim,  I'll  give  you  a  marvel.  I'll  give  you  a 
white  alley !  " 

Jim  began  to  waver. 

"White  alley,  Jim!     And  it's  a  bully  taw." 

"  My !  Dat's  a  mighty  gay  marvel,  /  tell  you  !  But  Mars  Tom  I's  powerful 
'fraid  ole  missis — " 

"And  besides,  if  you  will  I'll  show  you  my  sore  toe." 

Jim  was  only  human — this  attraction  was  too  much  for  him.  He  put  down  his 
pail,  took  the  white  alley,  and  bent  over  the  toe  with  absorbing  interest  while  the 


28 


TOM  SAWYER. 


bandage  was  being  unwound.     In  another  moment  he  was  flying  down  the  street 
with  his  pail  and  a  tingling  rear,  Tom  was  whitewashing  with  vigor,  and  Aunt  Polly 


TENDIN'  TO  BUSINESS. 
was  retiring  from  the  field  with  a  slipper  in  her  hand  and  triumph  in  her  eye. 

But  Tom's  energy  did  not  last.  He  began  to  think  of  the  fun  he  had  planned 
for  this  day,  and  his  sorrows  multiplied.  Soon  the  free  boys  would  come  tripping 
along  on  all  sorts  of  delicious  expeditions,  and  they  would  make  a  world  of  fun  of 
him  for  having  to  work — the  very  thought  of  it  burnt  him  like  fire.  He  got  out 
his  worldly  wealth  and  examined  it — bits  of  toys,  marbles,  and  trash ;  enough  to 
buy  an  exchange  of  work,  maybe,  but  not  half  enough  to  buy  so  much  as  half  an 
hour  of  pure  freedom.  So  he  returned  his  straightened  means  to  his  pocket,  and 
gave  up  the  idea  of  trying  to  buy  the  boys.  At  this  dark  and  hopeless  moment  an 
inspiration  burst  upon  him  !  Nothing  less  than  a  great,  magnificent  inspiration. 

He  took  up  his  brush  and  went  tranquilly  to  work.  Ben  Rogers  hove  in  sight 
presently — the  very  boy,  of  all  boys,  whose  ridicule  he  had  been  dreading.  Ben's 


S7^RA  TEGIC  MO  YEMEN TS.  29 

gait  was  the  hop-skip-and-jump — proof  enough  that  his  heart  was  light  and  his 
anticipations  high.  He  was  eating  an  apple,  and  giving  a  long,  melodious  whoop, 
at  intervals,  followed  by  a  deep-toned  ding-dong-dong,  ding-dong-dong,  for  he 
was  personating  a  steamboat.  As  he  drew  near,  he  slackened  speed,  took  the 
middle  of  the  street,  leaned  far  over  to  starboard  and  rounded  to  ponderously  and 
with  laborious  pomp  and  circumstance — for  he  was  personating  the  "  Big  Missouri," 
and  considered  himself  to  be  drawing  nine  feet  of  water.  He  was  boat,  and  captain, 
and  engine-bells  combined,  so  he  had  to  imagine  himself  standing  on  his  own 
hurricane-deck  giving  the  orders  and  executing  them  : 

"  Stop  her,  sir !  Ting-a-ling-ling  !  "  The  headway  ran  almost  out  and  he  drew 
up  slowly  toward  the  side-walk. 

"  Ship  up  to  back !  Ting-a-ling-ling !  "  His  arms  straightened  and  stiffened 
down  his  sides. 

"  Set  her  back  on  the  stabboard !  Ting-a-ling-ling !  Chow !  ch-chow- 
wow  !  Chow !  "  His  right  hand,  meantime,  describing  stately  circles, — for  it  was 
representing  a  forty-foot  wheel. 

"  Let  her  go  back  on  the  labboard  !  Ting-a-ling-ling  !  .  Chow-ch-chow-chow !  " 
The  left  hand  began  to  describe  circles. 

"  Stop  the  stabboard  !  Ting-a-ling-ling  !  Stop  the  labbord  !  Come  ahead  on 
the  stabboard  !  Stop  her!  Let  your  outside  turn  over  slow!  Ting-a-ling-ling! 
Chow-ow-ow  !  Get  out  that  head-line!  Lively  now!  Come — out  with  your 
spring-line — what 're  you  about  there !  Take  a  turn  round  that  stump  with  the 
bight  of  it !  Stand  by  that  stage,  now — let  her  go  !  Done  with  the  engines,  sir ! 
Ting-a-ling-ling!  Stit!  s'A't/  sh't!"  (trying  the  gauge-cocks.) 

Tom  went  on  whitewashing — paid  no  attention  to  the  steamboat.  Ben  stared  a 
moment  and  then  said  : 

"  Hi-jy//      You  re  up  a  stump,  ain't  you  !  " 

No  answer.  Tom  surveyed  his  last  touch  with  the  eye  of  an  artist;  then  he 
gave  his  brush  another  gentle  sweep  and  surveyed  the  result,  as  before.  Ben 
ranged  up  alongside  of  him.  Tom's  mouth  watered  for  the  apple,  but  he  stuck 
to  his  work.  Ben  said : 

"  Hello,  old  chap,  you  got  to  work,  hey  ?  " 

Tom  wheeled  suddenly  and  said  : 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


"  Why  it's  you  Ben  !     I  warn't  noticing." 

"Say — /'m  going  in  a  swimming,  /  am.     Don't  you  wish  you  could?     But   of 
course  you'd  druther  work — wouldn't  you?     Course  you  would  !  " 
Tom  contemplated  the  boy  a  bit,  and  said  : 

"  What  do  you  call  work  ?  " 
"  Why  ain't  that  work  ?  " 
Tom  resumed  his  whitewashing,  and 
answered  carelessly : 

"Well,  maybe  it  is,  and  maybe  it  aint. 
All  I  know,  is,  it  suits  Tom  Sawyer." 

"Oh  come,  now,  you  don't  mean  to 
let  on  that  you  like  it  ?  " 

The  brusji  continued  to  move. 
"Like  it?     Wei)   I  don't  see  why  I 
oughtn't  to  like  it.     Does  a   boy  get  a 
chance   to    whitewash    a   fence    every 
day  ?  " 

That  put  the  thing  in  a  new  light. 
Ben  stopped  nibbling  his  apple.  Tom 
swept  his  brush  daintily  back  and 
forth — stepped  back  to  note  the  effect 
— added  a  touch  here  and  there — criti- 
'  AIN'T  THAT  WORK?  cised  the  effect  again_Ben  watching 

every  move  and  getting   more  and  more  interested,  more   and   more  absorbed. 
Presently  he  said  : 

"Say,  Tom,  let  me  whitewash  a  little." 

Tom  considered,  was  about  to  consent ;  but  he  altered  his  mind  : 
"No — no — I  reckon  it  wouldn't  hardly  do,  Ben.  You  see, Aunt  Polly's  awful 
particular  about  this  fence — right  here  on  the  street,  you  know — but  if  it  was  the 
back  fence  I  wouldn't  mind  and  she  wouldn't.  Yes,  she's  awful  particular  about 
this  fence;  it's  got  to  be  done  very  careful;  I  reckon  there  ain't  one  boy  in  a 
thousand,  maybe  two  thousand,  that  can  do  it  the  way  it's  got  to  be  done. 


THE  INNOCENTS  BEGUILED.  31 

"No — is  that  so?  Oh  come,  now — lemme  just  try.  Only  just  a  little — I'd  let 
you,  if  you  was  me,  Tom." 

"Ben,  I'd  like  to,  honest  injun;  but  Aunt  Polly — well  Jim  wanted  to  do  it,  but 
she  wouldn't  let  him ;  Sid  wanted  to  do  it,  and  she  wouldn't  let  Sid.  Now  don't 
you  see  how  I'm  fixed  ?  If  you  was  to  tackle  this  fence  and  anything  was  to  happen 
to  it—  " 

"  Oh,  shucks,  I'll  be  just  as  careful.  Now  lemme  try.  Say — I'll  give  you  the 
core  of  my  apple." 

"Well,  here — .     No,  Ben,  now  don't.     I'm  afeard —  " 

"  I'll  give  you  all  of  it !  " 

Tom  gave  up  the  brush  with  reluctance  in  his  face  but  alacrity  in  his  heart. 
And  while  the  late  steamer  "  Big  Missouri  "  worked  and  sweated  in  the  sun,  the 
retired  artist  sat  on  a  barrej.  iri  the  shade  close  by,  dangled  his  legs,  munched  his 
apple,  and  planned  the  slaughter  of  more  innocents.  There  was  no  lack  of  mate- 
rial ;  boys  happened  along  every  little  while ;  they  came  to  jeer,  but  remained  to 
whitewash.  By  the  time  Ben  was  fagged  out,  Tom  had  traded  the  next  chance  to 
Billy  Fisher  for  a  kite,  in  good  repair ;  and  when  he  played  out,  Johnny  Miller 
bought  in  for  a  dead  rat  and  a  string  to  swing  it  with — and  so  on,  and  so  on,  hour 
after  hour.  And  when  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  came,  from  being  a  poor  poverty, 
stricken  boy  in  the  morning,  Tom  was  literally  rolling  in  wealth.  He  had  beside 
the  things  before  mentioned,  twelve  marbles,  part  of  a  jews-harp,  a  piece  of  blue 
bottle-glass  to  look  through,  a  spool  cannon,  a  key  that  wouldn't  unlock  anything, 
a  fragment  of  chalk,  a  glass  stopper  of  a  decanter,  a  tin  soldier,  a  couple  of  tadpoles, 
six  fire-crackers,  a  kitten  with  only  one  eye,  a  brass  door-knob,  a  dog-collar — but 
no  dog — the  handle  of  a  knife,  four  pieces  of  orange-peel,  and  a  dilapidated  old 
window-sash. 


TOM   SAWYER. 


He  had  had  a  nice,  good,  idle  time  all  the  while — plenty  of  company — and  the 
fence  had  three  coats  of  whitewash  on  it!  If  he  hadn't  run  out  of  whitewash,  he 
would  have  bankrupted  every  boy  in  the  village. 

Tom  said  to  himself  that  it  was  not  such  a  hollow  world,  after  all.  He  had  dis- 
covered a  great  law  of  human  action,  without  knowing  it — namely,  that  in  order  to 
make  a  man  or  a  boy  covet  a  thing,  it  is  only  necessary  to  make  the  thing 

difficult  to  attain.  If  he  had  been  a  great 
and  wise  philosopher,  like  the  writer  of  this 
book,  he  would  now  have  comprehended  that 
Work  consists  of  whatever  a  body  is  obliged 
to  do,  and  that  Play  consists  of  whatever  a 
body  is  not  obliged  to  do.  And  this  would 
help  him  to  understand  why  constructing 
artificial  flowers  or  performing  on  a  tread- 
mill is  work,  while  rolling  ten-pins  or  climb- 
|  ing  Mont  Blanc  is  only  amusement.  There 
are  wealthy  gentlemen  in  England  who 
drive  four-horse  passenger-coaches  twenty 
or  thirty  miles  on  a  daily  line,  in  the  sum- 
mer, because  the  privilege  costs  them  con- 
siderable money;  but  if  they  were  offered 
wages  for  the  service,  that  would  turn  it  into  • 
work  and  then  they  would  resign. 


AMUSEMENT. 


The  boy  mused  a  while  over  the  substantial  change  which  had  taken  place  in 
his  worldly  circumstances,  and  then  wended  toward  head-quarters  to  report. 


•m. 


again  in  this  intrepid  way.     He  said  : 

"What,  a'ready?      How  much  have  you  done?" 
3  33 


presented  himself  before  Aunt 
Polly,  who  was.  sitting  by  an  open 
window  in  a  pleasant  rearward  apart- 
ment, which  was  bed-room,  breakfast- 
room,  dining-room,  and  library,  com- 
bined. The  balmy,  summer  air,  the 
restful  quiet,  the  odor  of  the  flowers, 
and  the  drowsing  murmur  of  the 
bees  had  had  their  effect,  and  she  was 
nodding  over  her  knitting — for  she 
had  no  company  but  the  cat,  and  it 
was  asleep  in  her  lap.  Her  specta- 
cles were  propped  up  on  her  gray 
head  for  safety.  She  had  thought 
that  of  course  Tom  had  deserted 
long  ago,  and  she  wondered  at  see- 
ing him  place  himself  in  her  power 
'Mayn't  I  go  and  play  now,  aunt?'' 


34 


TOM  SAWYER. 


"  It's  all  done,  aunt." 
"Tom,  don't  lie  to  me — I  can't  bear  it." 
"  I  ain't,  aunt ;  it  is  all  done." 

Aunt  Polly  placed  small  trust  in  such  evidence.  She  went  out  to  see  for 
herself;  and  she  would  have  been  content  to  find  twenty  per  cent  of  Tom's 
statement  true.  When  she  found  the  entire  fence  whitewashed,  and  not  only 
whitewashed  but  elaborately  coated  and  recoated,  and  even  a  streak  added  to 
the  ground,  her  astonishment  was  almost  unspeakable.  She  said : 

"Well,  I  never!  There's  no  getting  round  it,  you  can  work  when  your'e  a 
mind  to,  Tom."  And  then  she  diluted  the  compliment  by  adding,  "  But  it's 
powerful  seldom  you're  a  mind  to,  I'm  bound  to  say.  Well,  go  'long  and  play; 
but  mind  you  get  back  sometime  in  a  week,  or  I'll  tan  you." 

She  was  so  overcome  by  the  splendor  of  his  achievement  that  she  took  him 

into  the  closet  and  selected  a  choice 
apple  and  delivered  it  to  him,  along 
with  an  improving  lecture  upon 
the  added  value  and  flavor  a  treat 
took  to  itself  when  it  came  with- 
out sin  through  virtuous  effort. 
And  while  she  closed  with  a  happy 
scriptural  flourish,  he  "  hooked  "  a 
doughnut. 

Then  he  skipped  out,  and  saw 
Sid  just  starting  up  the  outside 
stairway  that  led  to  the  back  rooms 
on  the  second  floor.  Clods  were 

PAVING  OFF.  handy  and  the  air  was  full  of  them 

in  a  twinkling.  They  raged  around  Sid  like  a  hail-storm  ;  and  before  Aunt 
Polly  could  collect  her  surprised  faculties  and  sally  to  the  rescue,  six  or 
seven  clods  had  taken  personal  effect,  and  Tom  was  over  the  fence  and  gone. 
There  was  a  gate,  but  as  a  general  thing  he  was  too  crowded  for  time  to  make 
use  of  it.  His  soul  was  at  peace,  now  that  he  had  settled  with  Sid  for  calling 
attention  to  his  black  thread  and  getting  him  into  trouble. 


TOM  AS  A  GENERAL. 


35 


Tom  skirted  the  block,  and  came  round  into  a  muddy  alley  that  led  by  the 
back  of  his  aunt's  cow-stable.  He  presently  got  safely  beyond  the  reach  of 
capture  and  punishment,  and  hasted  toward  the  public  square  of  the  village, 
where  two  "  military "  companies  of  boys  had  met  for  conflict,  according  to 
previous  appointment.  Tom  was  General  of  one  of  these  armies,  Joe  Harper 
(a  bosom  friend,)  General  of  the  other.  These  two  great  commanders  did  not 
condescend  to  fight  in  person — that  being  better  suited  to  the  still  smaller  fry 
— but  sat  together  on  an  eminence  and  conducted  the  field  operations  by  orders 
delivered  through  aides-de-camp.  Tom's  army  won  a  great  victory,  after  a 
long  and  hard-fought  battle.  Then  the  dead  were  counted,  prisoners  exchanged, 
the- terms  of  the  next  disagreement  agreed  upon  and  the  day  for  the  necessary 


AFTER    THE    BATTLE. 


"battle  appointed ;  after  which  the  armies  fell  into  line  and  marched  away,  and 
Tom  turned  homeward  alone. 

As  he  was  passing  by  the  house  where  Jeff  Thatcher  lived,  he  saw  a  new  girl 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


in  the  garden — a  lovely  little  blue-eyed  creature  with  yellow  hair  plaited  into 
two  long  tails,  white  summer  frock  and  embroidered  pantalettes.  The  fresh- 
crowned  hero  fell  without  firing  a  shot.  A  certain  Amy  Lawrence  vanished 
out  of  his  heart  and  left  not  even  a  memory  of  herself  behind.  He  had  thought 
he  loved  her  to  distraction,  he  had  regarded  his  passion  as  adoration;  and 
behold  it  was  only  a  poor  little  evanescent  partiality.  He  had  been  months 
winning  her;  she  had  confessed  hardly  a  week  ago;  he  had  been  the  hap- 
piest and  the  proudest  boy  in  the  world  only  seven  short  days,  and  here  in  one 

instant  of  time  she  had  gone  out  of  his  heart 
like  a  casual  stranger  whose  visit  is  done. 

He  worshiped  this  new  angel  with  fur- 
tive eye,  till  he  saw  that  she  had  discovered 
him ;  then  he  pretended  he  did  not  know  she 
was  present,  and  began  to  "show  off"  in  all 
sorts  of  absurd  boyish  ways,  in  order  to  win 
her  admiration.  He  kept  up  this  grotesque 
foolishness  for  some  time ;  but  by  and  by, 
while  he  was  in  the  midst  of  some  dangerous 
gymnastic  performances,  he  glanced  aside 
and  saw  that  the  little  girl  was  wending 
her  way  toward  the  house.  Tom  came  up 
to  the  fence  and  leaned  on  it,  grieving,  and 
hoping  she  would  tarry  yet  a  while  longer. 
She  halted  a  moment  on  the  steps  and  then 
moved  toward  the  door.  Tom  heaved  a 
great  sigh  as  she  put  her  foot  on  the  threshold.  But  his  face  lit  up,  right  away, 
for  she  tossed  a  pansy  over  the  fence  a  moment  before  she  disappeared. 

The  boy  ran  around  and  stopped  within  a  foot  or  two  of  the  flower,  and  then 
shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hand  and  began  to  look  down  street  as  if  he  had  dis- 
covered something  of  interest  going  on  in  that  direction.  Presently  he  picked 
up  a  straw  and  began  trying  to  balance  it  on  his  nose,  with  his  head  tilted  far 
back ;  and  as  he  moved  from  side  to  side,  in  his  efforts,  he  edged  nearer  and 


'  SHOWING    OFF. 


TRIUMPH  A  ND  RE  WA  RD.  3  7 

nearer  toward  the  pansy;  finally  his  bare  foot  rested  upon  it,  his  pliant  toes 
closed  upon  it,  and  he  hopped  away  with  the  treasure  and  disappeared  round 
the  corner.  But  only  for  a  minutex—only  while  he  could  button  the  flower 
inside  his  jacket,  next  his  heart — or  next  his  stomach,  possibly,  for  he  was  not 
much  posted  in  anatomy,  and  not  hypercritical,  anyway. 

He  returned,  now,  and  hung  about  the  fence  till  nightfall,  "  showing  off,"  as 
before ;  but  the  girl  never  exhibited  herself  again,  though  Tom  comforted  him- 
self a  little  with  the  hope  that  she  had  been  near  some  window,  meantime,  and 
been  aware  of  his  attentions.  Finally  he  rode  home  reluctantly,  with  his  poor 
head  full  of  visions. 

All  through  supper  his  spirits  were  so  high  that  his  aunt  wondered  "  what 
had  got  into  the  child."  He  took  a  good  scolding  about  clodding  Sid,  and  did 
not  seem  to  mind  it  in  the  least.  He  tried  to  steal  sugar  under  his  aunt's  very 
nose,  and  got  his  knuckles  rapped  for  it.  He  said : 

"  Aunt,  you  don't  whack  Sid  when  he  takes  it." 

"  Well,  Sid  don't  torment  a  body  the  way  you  do.  You'd  be  always  into  that 
sugar  if  I  warn't  watching  you." 

Presently  she  stepped  into  the  kitchen,  and  Sid,  happy  in  his  immunity, 
reached  for  the  sugar-bowl — a  sort  of  glorying  over  Tom  which  was  well-nigh 
unbearable.  But  Sid's  fingers  slipped  and  the  bowl  dropped  and  broke.  Tom 
was  in  ecstasies.  In  such  ecstasies  that  he  even  controlled  his  tongue  and  was 
silent.  He  said  to  himself  that  he  would  not  speak  a  word,  even  when  his  aunt 
came  in,  but  would  sit  perfectly  still  till  she  asked  who  did  the  mischief;  and 
then  he  would  tell,  and  there  would  be  nothing  so  good  in  the  world  as  to  see 
that  pet  model  "  catch  it."  He  was  so  brim-full  of  exultation  that  he  could 
hardly  hold  himself  when  the  old  lady  came  back  and  stood  above  the  wreck 
discharging  lightnings  of  wrath  from  over  her  spectacles.  He  said  to  himself, 
"Now  it's  coming!"  And  the  next  instant  he  was  sprawling  on  the  floor! 
The  potent  palm  was  uplifted  to  strike  again  when  Tom  cried  out : 

"  Hold  on,  now,  what  'er  you  belting  me  for  ? — Sid  broke  it ! " 

Aunt  Polly  paused,  perplexed,  and  Tom  looked  for  healing  pity.  But  when 
•she  got  her  tongue  again,  she  only  said  : 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


"Umf!     Well,  you  didn't  get  a  lick  amiss,  I   reckon.     You  been   into  some 
other  audacious  mischief  when  I  wasn't  around,  like  enough." 

• ^ ^v^^^^vv • — -       Then  her  conscience  reproached 

I  ^v^":-xNs\V  i^\  '   11111^1^ >;>     ner>  and  she  yearned  to  say  some- 

\v^^  ^>^:  iSI^^^^^^^    thing  kind   and   loving;    but   she 

i  ?.••/-•  -.':;.:. -^  ••'•-•;  ,.  •;^^»xx^%,  '  :  '-  judged  that  this  would  be  con- 
strued into  a  confession  that  she 
had  been  in  the  wrong,  and  disci- 
pline forbade  that.  So  she  kept 
silence,  and  went  about  her  affairs 
with  a  troubled  heart.  Tom  sulked 
in  a  corner  and  exalted  his  woes. 
^He  knew  that  in  her  heart  his  aunt 
was  on  her  knees  to  him,  and  he 
was  morosely  gratified  by  the  con- 
sciousness of  it.  He  would  hang 


.  out     no    signals,    he   would    take 

notice  of  none.  He  knew  that  a  yearning  glance  fell  upon  him,  now  and  then, 
through  a  film  of  tears,  but  he  refused  recognition  of  it.  He  pictured  himself 
lying  sick  unto  death  and  his  aunt  bending  over  him  beseeching  one  little 
forgiving  word,  but  he  would  turn  his  face  to  the  wall,  and  die  with  that  word 
unsaid.  Ah,  how  would  she  feel  then  ?  And  he  pictured  himself  brought 
home  from  the  river,  dead,  with  his  curls  all  wet,  and  his  sore  heart  at  rest. 
How  she  would  throw  herself  upon  him,  and  how  her  tears  would  fall  like 
rain,  and  her  lips  pray  God  to  give  her  back  her  boy  and  she  would  never, 
never  abuse  him  any  more !  But  he  would  lie  there  cold  and  white  and  make 
no  sign — a  poor  little  sufferer,  whose  griefs  were  at  an  end.  He  so  worked 
upon  his  feelings  with  the  pathos  of  these  dreams,  that  he  had  to  keep  swallow- 
ing, he  was  so  like  to  choke ;  and  his  eyes  swam  in  a  blur  of  water,  which 
overflowed  when  he  winked,  and  ran  down  and  trickled  from  the  end  of  his 
nose.  And  such  a  luxury  to  him  was  this  petting  of  his  sorrows,  that  he  could 
not  bear  to  have  any  worldly  cheeriness  or  any  grating  delight  intrude  upon 


DISMAL  FELICITY. 


39 


it ;  it  was  too  sacred  for  such  con- 
tact; and  so,  presently,  when  his 
cousin  Mary  danced  in,  all  alive  with 
the  joy  of  seeing  home  again  after 
an  age-long  visit  of  one  week  to  the 
country,  he  got  up  and  moved  in 
clouds  and  darkness  out  at  one  door 
as  she  brought  song  and  sunshine  in 
at  the  other. 

He  wandered  far  from  the  .accus- 
tomed haunts  of  boys,  and  sought 
desolate  places  that  were  in  harmony 
with  his  spirit.  A  log  raft  in  the 
river  invited  him,  and  he  seated  him- 
self on  its  outer  edge  and  contem- 
•plated  the  dreary  vastness  of  the 
stream,  wishing,  the  while,  that  he  could 
only  be  drowned,  all  at  once  and  uncon- 
sciously, without  undergoing  the  uncom- 
fortable routine  devised  by  nature.  Then 
he  thought  of  his  flower.  He  got  it  out, 
rumpled  and  wilted,  and  it  mightily  in- 
creased his  dismal  felicity.  He  wondered 
if  she  would  pity  him  if  she  knew  ?  Would 
she  cry,  and  wish  that  she  had  a  right  to 
put  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  com- 
fort him?  Or  would  she  turn  coldly  away 
like  all  the  hollow  world  ?  This  picture 
brought  such  an  agony  of  pleasureable 
suffering  that  he  worked  it  over  and  over 
again  in  his  mind  and  set  it  up  in  new  and 
varied  lights,  till  he  wore  it  threadbare, 
departed  in  the  darkness. 


At  last  he   rose   up   sighing   and 


AC 


TOM  SA  WYRR. 


About  half  past  nine  or  ten  o'clock  he 
came  along  the^  deserted  street  to  where 
the  Adored  Unknown  lived ;  he  paused  a 
moment ;  no  sound  fell  upon  his  listening 
ear;  a  candle  was  casting  a  dull  glow  upon 
the  curtain  of  a  second-story  window.  Was 
the  sacred  presence  there  ?  He  climbed  the 
fence,  threaded  his  stealthy  way  through 
the  plants,  till  he  stood  under  that  window; 
he  looked  up  at  it  long,  and  with  emotion ; 
then  he  laid  him  down  on  the  ground 
under  it,  disposing  himself  upon  his  back, 
with  his  hands  clasped  upon  his  breast  and 
holding  his  poor  wilted  flower.  And  thus 
he  would  die — out  in  the  cold  world,  with 
no  shelter  over  his  homeless  head,  no 
friendly  hand  to  wipe  the  death-damps 
from  his  brow,  no  loving  face  to  bend 
pityingly  over  him  when  the  great  agony 
came.  And  thus  she  would  see  him  when 
she  looked  out  upon  the  glad  morning,  and 
oh  !  would  she  drop  one  little  tear  upon  his 
poor,  lifeless  form,  would  she  heave  one 
little  sigh  to  see  a  bright  young  life  so 
rudely  blighted,  so  untimely  cut  down? 

The  window  went  up,  a  maid-servant's 
discordant  voice  profaned  the  holy  calm, 
and  a  deluge  of  water  drenched  the  prone 
martyr's  remains! 

The  strangling  hero  sprang  up  with  a 

_^ i  relieving  snort.  There  was  a  whiz  as 

of  a  missile  in  the  air,  mingled  with  the  murmur  of  a  curse,  a  sound  as  of 


COMMISSION  AND  OMISSION. 


shivering  glass  followed,  and  a  small,  vague  form  went  over  the  fence  and  shot 
away  in  the  gloom. 

Not  long  after,  as  Tom,  all  undressed  for  bed,  was  surveying  his  drenched 
garments  by  the  light  of  a  tallow  dip,  Sid  woke  up  ;  but  if  he  had  any  dim  idea 
of  making  any  "  references  to  allusions,"  he  thought  better  of  it  and  held  his 
peace,  for  there  was  danger  in  Tom's  eye. 

Tom  turned  in  without  the  added  vexation  of  prayers,  and  Sid  made  mental 
note  of  the  omission. 


sun  rose  upon  a  tranquil  world, 
and  beamed  down  upon  the  peaceful 
village  like  a  benediction.  Breakfast 
over,  Aunt  Polly  had  family  worship; 
it  began  wilh  a  prayer  built  from  the 
ground  up  of  solid  courses  of  Scrip- 
tural quotations>  welded  together  with 
a  thin  mortar  of  originality ;  and  from 
the  summit  of  this  she  delivered  a 
grim  chapter  of  the  Mosaic  Law,  as 
from  Sinai. 

Then  Tom  girded  up  his  loins,  so  to 
speak,  and  went  to  work  to  "  get  his 
verses."  Sid  had  learned  his  lesson 
days  before.  Tom  bent  all  his  ener- 
gies to  the  memorizing  of  five  verses, 
and  he  chose  part  of  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount,  because  he  could  find  no  verses  that  were  shorter.  At  the  end  of 
half  an  hour  Tom  had  a  vague  general  idea  of  his  lesson>  but  no  more,  for  his. 

42 


MENTAL  ACROBATICS.  43, 


mind  was  traversing  the  whole  field  of  human  thought,  and  his  hands  were  busy 
with  distracting  recreations.  Mary  took  his  book  to  hear  him  recite,  and  he  tried 
to  find  his  way  through  the  fog : 

"  Blessed  are  the — a — a —  " 

"Poor" — 

"  Yes — poor ;  blessed  are  the  poor — a — a —  " 

"  In  spirit —  " 

"  In  spirit ;  blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  they — they —  " 

"  Theirs—  " 

"  For  theirs.  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
Blessed  are  they  that  mourn,  for  they — they —  " 

"Sh—  " 

"  For  they — a —  " 

"  S,  H,  A—  " 

"  For  they  S,  H— Oh  I  don't  know  what  it  is !  " 

"  Shall!  " 

"  Oh,  shall !  for  they  shall — for  they  shall — a— a — shall  mourn — a — a — blessed 
are  they  that  shall — they  that — a — they  that  shall  mourn,  for  they  shall — a — shall 
what}  Why  don't  you  tell  me  Mary  ? — what  do  you  want  to  be  so  mean  for  ?  ". 

"  Oh,  Tom,  you  poor  thick-headed  thing,  I'm  not  teasing  you.  I  wouldn't  do 
that.  You  must  go  and  learn  it  again.  Don't  you  be  discouraged,  Tom,  you'll 
manage  it — and  if  you  do,  I'll  give  you  something  ever  so  nice.  There,  now, 
that's  a  good  boy." 

"All  right !     What  is  it,  Mary,  tell  me  what  it  is." 

"  Never  you  mind,  Tom.     You  know  if  I  say  it's  nice,  it  is  nice." 

"  Youbet'you  that's  so,  Mary.     All  right,  I'll  tackle  it  again." 

And  he  did  "  tackle  it  again  " — and  under  the  double  pressure  of  curiosity  and 
prospective  gain,  he  did  it  with  such  spirit  that  he  accomplished  a  shining  success. 
Mary  gave  him  a  bran-new  "  Barlow  "  knife  worth  twelve  and  a  half  cents ;  and 
the  convulsion  of  delight  that  swept  his  system  shook  him  to  his  foundations. 
True,  the  knife  would  not  cut  anything,  but  it  was  a  "sure-enough"  Barlow,  and 
there  was  inconceivable  grandeur  in  that — though  where  the  western  boys  ever 


44 


TOM  SA  WYEK. 


got  the  idea  that  such  a  weapon  could  possibly  be  counterfeited  to  its  injury,  is  an 
imposing  mystery  and  will  always  remain  so,  perhaps.     Tom  contrived  to  scarify 

the  cupboard  with  it,  and  was  arranging  to 
begin  on  the  bureau,  when  he  was  called  off 
to  dress  for  Sunday-School. 

Mary  gave  him  a  tin  basin  of  water  and  a 
piece  of  soap,  and  he  went  outside  the  door 
and  set  the  basin  on  a  little  bench  there ;  then 
he  dipped  the  soap  in  the  water  and  laid  it 
down ;  turned  up  his  sleeves;  poured  out  the 
water  on  the  ground,  gently,  and  then  entered 
the  kitchen  and  began  to  wipe  his  face  dili- 
gently on  the  towel  behind  the  door.  But 
Mary  removed  the  towel  and  said : 

"  Now  ain't  you  ashamed,  Tom.  You 
mustn't  be  so  bad.  Water  won't  hurt  you." 
Tom  was  a  trifle  disconcerted.  The  basin 
was  refilled,  and  this  time  he  stood  over  it 
a  little  while,  gathering  resolution ;  took  in  a  big  breath  and  began.  When  he 
entered  the  kitchen  presently,  with  both  eyes  shut  and  groping  for  the  towel 
with  his  hands,  an  honorable  testimony  of  suds  and  water  was  dripping  from  his 
face.  But  when  he  emerged  from  the  towel,  he  was  not  yet  satisfactory,  for  the 
clean  territory  stopped  short  at  his  chin  and  his  jaws,  like  a  mask ;  below  and 
beyond  this  line  there  was  a  dark  expanse  of  unirrigated  soil  that  spread  down- 
ward in  front  and  backward  around  his  neck.  Mary  took  him  in  hand,  and  when 
she  was  done  with  him  he  was*  a  man  and  a  brother,  without  distinction  of  color, 
and  his  saturated  hair  was  neatly  brushed,  and  its  short  curls  wrought  into  a 
dainty  and  symmetrical  general  effect.  [He  privately  smoothed  out  the  curls,  with 
labor  and  difficulty,  and  plastered  his  hair  close  down  to  his  head ;  for  he  held 
curls  to  be  effeminate,  and  his  own  filled  his  life  with  bitterness.]  Then  Mary 
got  out  a  suit  of  his  clothing  that  had  been  used  only  on  Sundays  during  two  years 
— they  were  simply  called  his  "other  clothes  " — and  so  by  that  we  know  the  size 


USING  THE  "BARLOW." 


A  TTENDING  SUNDA  Y-SCHOOL. 


45 


of  his  wardrobe.  The  girl  "put  him  to  rights  "  after  he  had  dressed  himself;  she 
buttoned  his  neat  roundabout  up  to  his  chin,  turned  his  vast  shirt  collar  down 
over  his  shoulders,  brushed  him  off  and  crowned  him  with  his  speckled  straw  hat. 
He  now  looked  exceedingly  improved  and  uncomfortable.  He  was  fully  as  uncom- 
fortable as  he  looked ;  for  there  was  a  restraint  about  whole  clothes  and  cleanli- 
ness that  galled  him.  He  hoped  that  Mary  would  forget  his  shoes,  but  the  hope  was 
blighted  ;  she  coated  them  thoroughly  with  tallow,  as  was  the  custom,  and  brought 
them  out.  He  lost  his  temper  and  said  he  was  always  being  made  to  do  every- 
thing he  didn't  want  to  do.  But  Mary  said,  persuasively : 
"  Please,  Tom — that's  a  good  boy." 

So  he  got  into  the  shoes  snarling.     Mary  was  soon  ready,  and  the  three  children 

set  out  for  Sunday-school — a  place  that 
Tom  hated  with  his  whole  heart;  but 
Sid  and  Mary  were  fond  of  it. 

Sabbath-school  hours  were  from  nine 
to  half  past  ten;  and  then  church  ser- 
vice. Two  of  of  the  children  always 
remained  for  the  sermon  voluntarily, 
and  the  other  always  remained  too — 
for  stronger  reasons.  The  church's 
high-backed,  uncushioned  pews  would 
seat  about  three  hundred  persons;  the 
edifice  was  but  a  small,  plain  affair,  with 
a  sort  of  pine  board  tree-box  on  top  of 
it  for  a  steeple.  At  the  door  Tom 
dropped  back  a  step  and  accosted  a 
Sunday-dressed  comrade : 

"Say,  Billy,  got  a  yaller  ticket  ?  " 
"Yes." 

"  What'll  you  take  for  her  ?  " 
THE  CHURCH.  "  What'll  you  give  ?  " 

"  Piece   of    lickrish    and    a    fish-hook." 
"  Less  see    'em." 


46  TOM  SAWYER. 


Tom  exhibited.  They  were  satisfactory,  and  the  property  changed  hands. 
Then  Tom  traded  a  couple  of  white  alleys  for  three  red  tickets,  and  some  small 
trifle  or  other  for  a  couple  of  blue  ones.  He  waylaid  other  boys  as  they  came, 
and  went  on  buying  tickets  of  various  colors  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  longer.  He 
entered  the  church,  now,  with  a  swarm  of  clean  and  noisy  boys  and  girls,  proceeded 
to  his  seat  and  started  a  quarrel  with  the  first  boy  that  came  handy.  The  teacher, 
a  grave,  elderly  man,  interfered ;  then  turned  his  back  a  moment  and  Tom  pulled 
a  boy's  hair  in  the  next  bench,  and  was  absorbed  in  his  book  when  the  boy  turned 
around  ;  stuck  a  pin  in  another  boy,  presently,  in  order  to  hear  him  say  "  Ouch !  " 
and  got  a  new  reprimand  from  his  teacher.  Tom's  whole  class  were  of  a  pattern 
— restless,  noisy,  and  troublesome.  When  they  came  to  recite  their  lessons,  not 
•one  of  them  knew  his  verses  perfectly,  but  had  to  be  prompted  all  along.  However, 
they  worried  through,  and  each  got  his  reward — in  small  blue  tickets,  each  with  a 
passage  of  Scripture  on  it;  each  blue  ticket  was  pay  for  two  verses  of  the  recitation. 
Ten  blue  tickets  equalled  a  red  one,  and  could  be  exchanged  for  it;  ten  red  tickets 
•equalled  a  yellow  one :  for  ten  yellow  tickets  the  Superintendant  gave  a  very  plainly 
bound  Bible,  (worth  forty  cents  in  those  easy  times,)  to  the  pupil.  How  many  of 
my  readers  would  have  the  industry  and  application  to  memorize  two  thousand 
verses,  even  for  a  Dore  Bible?  And  yet  Mary  had  acquired  two  Bibles  in  this 
way — it  was  the  patient  work  of  two  years — and  a  boy  of  German  parentage  had 
won  four  or  five.  He  once  recited  three  thousand  verses  without  stopping ;  but 
the  strain  upon  his  mental  faculties  was  too  great,  and  he  was  little  better  than  an 
idiot  from  that  day  forth — a  grievous  misfortune  for  the  school,  for  on  great  occa- 
sions, before  company,  the  Superintendent  (as  Tom  expressed  it)  had  always  made 
this  boy  come  out  and  "spread  himself."  Only  the  older  pupils  managed  to  keep 
their  tickets  and  stick  to  their  tedious  work  long  enough  to  get  a  Bible,  and  so 
the  delivery  of  one  of  these  prizes  was  a  rare  and  noteworthy  circumstance ;  the 
successful  pupil  was  so  great  and  conspicuous  for  that  day  that  on  the  spot  every 
scholar's  heart  was  fired  with  a  fresh  ambition  that  often  lasted  a  couple  of  weeks. 
It  is  possible  that  Tom's  mental  stomach  had  never  really  hungered  for  one  of 
those  prizes,  but  unquestionably  his  entire  being  had  for  many  a  day  longed  for 
the  glory  and  the  eclat  that  came  with  it. 


THE  SUPERINTENDENT. 


47 


In  due  course  the  Superintendent  stood  up  in  front  of  the  pulpit,  with  a  closed 
hymn  book  in  his  hand  and  his  forefinger  inserted  between  its  leaves,  and  com- 
manded attention.  When  a  Sunday-school  Superintendent  makes  his  customary 
little  speech,  a  hymn-book  in  the  hand  is  as  necessary  as  is  the  inevitable  sheet  of 


NECESSITIES. 


music  in  the  hand  of  a  singer  who  stands  forward  on  the  platform  and  sings  a 
solo  at  a  concert — though  why,  is  a  mystery :  for  neither  the  hymn-book  nor  the 
sheet  of  music  is  ever  referred  to  by  the  sufferer.  This  Superintendent  was  a  slim 
creature  of  thirty-five,  with  a  sandy  goatee  and  short  sandy  hair ;  he  wore  a  stiff 
standing-collar  whose  upper  edge  almost  reached  his  ears  and  whose  sharp  points 
curved  forward  abreast  the  corners  of  his  mouth — a  fence  that  compelled  a  straight 
lookout  ahead,  and  a  turning  of  the  wrjole  body  when  a  side  view  was  require.d ; 
his  chin  was  propped  on  a  spreading  cravat  which  was  as  broad  and  as  long 
as  a  bank  note,  and  had  fringed  ends ;  his  boot  toes  were  turned  sharply  up,  in 
the  fashion  of  the  day,  like  sleigh-runners — an  effect  patiently  and  laboriously 


48  TOM   SAWYER. 


'produced  by  the  young  men  by  sitting  with  their  toes  pressed  against  a  wall  for 
hours  together.  Mr.  Walters  was  very  earnest  of  mein,  and  very  sincere  and  honest 
at  heart ;  and  he  held  sacred  things  and  places  in  such  reverence,  and  so  separated 
them  from  worldly  matters,  that  unconsciously  to  himself  his  Sunday-school  voice 
had  acquired  a  peculiar  intonation  which  was  wholly  absent  on  week-days.  He 
began  after  this  fashion  : 

"  Now  children,  I  want  you  all  to  sit  up  just  as  straight  and  pretty  as  you  can 
and  give  me  all  your  attention  for  a  minute  or  two.  There — that  is  it.  That  is 
the  way  good  little  boys  and  girls  should  do.  I  see  one  little  girl  who  is  looking 
out  of  the  window — I  am  afraid  she  thinks  I  am  out  there  somewhere — perhaps  up 
in  one  of  the  trees  making  a  speech  to  the  little  birds.  [Applausive  titter.]  I 
want  to  tell  you  how  good  it  makes  me  feel  to  see  so  many  bright,  clean  little 
faces  assembled  in  a  place  like  this,  learning  to  do  right  and  be  good."  And  so 
forth  and  so  on.  It  is  not  necessary  to  set  down  the  rest  of  the  oration.  It  was 
of  a  pattern  which  does  not  vary,  and  so  it  is  familiar  to  us  all. 

The  latter  third  of  the  speech  was  marred  by  the  resumption  of  fights  and  other 
recreations  among  certain  of  the  bad  boys,  and  by  fidgetings  and  whisperings  that 
extended  far  and  wide,  washing  even  to  the  bases  of  isolated  and  incorruptible 
rocks  like  Sid  and  Mary.  But  now  every  sound  ceased  suddenly,  with  the  sub- 
sidence of  Mr.  Walters'  voice,  and  the  conclusion  of  the  speech  was  received  with 
a  burst  of  silent  gratitude. 

A  good  part  of  the  whispering  had  been  occasioned  by  an  event  which  was  more 
or  less  rare — the  entrance  of  visitors ;  lawyer  Thatcher,  accompanied  by  a  very 
feeble  and  aged  man ;  a  fine,  portly,  middle-aged  gentleman  with  iron-gray  hair ; 
and  a  dignified  lady  who  was  doubtless  the  latter's  wife.  The  lady  was  leading  a 
child.  Tom  had  been  restless  and  full  of  chafings  and  repinings;  conscience- 
smitten,  too — he  could  not  meet  Amy  Lawrence's  eye,  he  could  not  brook  her 
loving  gaze.  But  when  he  saw  this  small  new-comer  his  soul  was  all  ablaze  with 
bliss  in  a  moment.  The  next  moment  he  was  "  showing  off"  with  all  his  might — 
cuffing  boys,  pulling  hair,  making  faces — in  a  word,  using  every  art  that  seemed 
likely  to  fascinate  a  girl  and  win  her  applause.  His  exaltation  had  but  one  alloy 
— the  memory  of  his  humiliation  in  this  angel's  garden — and  that  record  in  sand 


SHO  WING  OFF."  49 


was  fast  washing  out,  under  the  waves  of  happiness  that  were  sweeping  over  it  now. 

The  visitors  were  given  the  highest  seat  of  honor,  and  as  soon  as  Mr.  Walters' 
speech  was  finished,  he  introduced  them  to  the  school.  The  middle-aged 
man  turned  out  to  be  a  prodigious  personage — no  less  a  one  than  the  county 
judge — altogether  the  most  august  creation  these  children  had  ever  looked  upon — 
and  they  wondered  what  kind  of  material  he  was  made  of — and  they  half 
wanted  to  hear  him  roar,  and  were  half  afraid  he  might,  too.  He  was  from  Con- 
stantinople, twelve  miles  away — so  he  had  traveled,  and  seen  the  world — these  very 
eyes  had  looked  upon  the  county  court  house — which  was  said  to  have  a  tin  roof. 
The  awe  which  these  reflections  inspired  was  attested  by  the  impressive  silence 
and  the  ranks  of  staring  eyes.  This  was  the  great  Judge  Thatcher,  brother  of 
their  own  lawyer.  Jeff  Thatcher  immediately  went  forward,  to  be  familiar  with 
the  great  man  and  be  envied  by  the  school.  It  would  have  been  music  to  his 
soul  to  hear  the  whisperings  : 

"  Look  at  him,  Jim !  He's  a  going  up  there.  Say — look  !  he's  a  going  to  shake 
hands  with  him — he  is  shaking  hands  with  him !  By  jings,  don't  you  wish  you 
was  Jeff?  " 

Mr.  Walters  fell  to  "  showing  off,"  with  all  sorts  of  official  bustlings  and  activities 
giving  orders,  delivering  judgments,  discharging  directions  here,  there,  everywhere 
that  he  could  find  a  target.  The  librarian  "showed  off" — running  hither  and 
thither  with  his  arms  full  of  books  and  making  a  deal  of  the  splutter  and  fuss  that 
insect  authority  delights'  in.  The  young  lady  teachers  "showed  off" — bending 
sweetly  over  pupils  that  were  lately  being  boxed,  lifting  pretty  warning  fingers  at 
bad  little  boys  and  patting  good  ones  lovingly.  The  young  gentlemen  teachers 
"  showed  off"  with  small  scoldings  and  other  little  displays  of  authority  and  fine 
attention  to  discipline — and  most  of  the  teachers,  of  both  sexes,  found  business 
up  at  the  library,  by  the  pulpit ;  and  it  was  business  that  frequently  had  to  be  done 
over  again  two  or  three  times,  (with  much  seeming  vexation.)  The  little  girls 
"showed  off"  in  various  ways,  and  the  little  boys  "showed  off"  with  such  dili- 
gence that  the  air  was  thick  with  paper  wads  and  the  murmur  of  scufflings. 
And  above  it  all  the  great  man  sat  and  beamed  a  majestic  judicial  smile  upon  all 
the  house,  and  warmed  himself  in  the  sun  of  his  own  grandeur — for  he  was  "  show- 
ing off,"  too.  4 


50  TOM    SAWYER. 


There  was  only  one  thing  wanting,  to  make  Mr.  Walters'  ecstacy  complete, 
and  that  was  a  chance  to  deliver  a  Bible-prize  and  exhibit  a  prodigy.  Several 
pupils  had  a  few  yellow  tickets,  but  none  had  enough — he  had  been  around 
among  the  star  pupils  inquiring.  He  would  have  given  worlds,  now,  to  have  that 
German  lad  back  again  with  a  sound  mind. 

And  now  at  this  moment,  when  hope  was  dead,  Tom  Sawyer  came  forward 
with  nine  yellow  tickets,  nine  red  tickets,  and  ten  blue  ones,  and  demanded  a 
Bible.  This  was  a  thunderbolt  out  of  a  clear  sky.  .  Walters  was  not  expecting  an 
application  from  this  source  for  the  next  ten  years.  But  there  was  no  getting 
around  it — here  were  the  certified  checks,  and  they  were  good  for  their  face. 
Tom  was  therefore  elevated  to  a  place  with  the  Judge  and  the  other  elect,  and 
the  great  news  was  announced  from  head-quarters.  It  was  the  most  stunning 
surprise  of  the  decade,  and  so  profound  was  the  sensation  that  it  lifted  the  new 
hero  up  to  the  judicial  one's  altitude,  and  the  school  had  two  marvels  to  gaze 
upon  in  place  of  one.  The  boys  were  all  eaten  up  with  envy — but  those  that 
suffered  the  bitterest  pangs  were  those  who  perceived  too  late  that  they  themselves 
had  contributed  to  this  hated  splendor  by  trading  tickets  to  Tom  for  the  wealth 
he  had  amassed  in  selling  whitewashing  privileges.  These  despised  themselves,  as 
being  the  dupes  of  a  wily  fraud,  a  guileful  snake  in  the  grass. 

The  prize  was  delivered  to  Tom  with  as  much  effusion  as  the  Superintendent 
could  pump  up  under  the  circumstances;  but  it  lacked  somewhat  of  the  true  gush, 
for  the  poor  fellow's  instinct  taught  him  that  there  was  a  mystery  here  that  could 
not  well  bear  the  light,  perhaps ;  it  was  simply  preposterous  that  this  boy  had 
warehoused  two  thousand  sheaves  of  Scriptural  wisdom  on  his  premises — a  dozen 
would  strain  his  capacity,  without  a  doubt. 

Amy  Lawrence  was  proud  and  glad,  and  she  tried  to  make  Tom  see  it  in  her 
face — but  he  wouldn't  look.  She  wondered;  then  she  was  just  a  grain  troubled  ; 
next  a  dim  suspicion  came  and  went — came  again  ;  she  watched;  a  furtive  glance 
told  her  worlds— and  then  her  heart  broke,  and  she  was  jealous,  and  angry,  and 
the  tears  came  and  she  hated  everybody.  Tom  most  of  all,  (she  thought.) 

Tom  was  introduced  to  the  Judge;  but  his  tongue  was  tied,  his  breath  would 
hardly  come,  his  heart  quaked — partly  because  of  the  awful  greatness  of  the 


TOM  LIONIZED. 


man,  but  mainly  because  he  was  her  parent.     He  would  have  liked   to  fall  down 
and  worship  him,  if  it  were  in  the  dark.     The  Judge  put  his  hand  on  Tom's  head 

and  called  him  a  fine  little    man,  and 
asked  him  what   his  name  was.      The 
boy  stammered,  gasped,  and  got  it  out : 
"  Tom." 

"  Oh,  no,  not  Tom — it  is  —  " 
"  Thomas." 

"  Ah,  that's  it.  I  thought  there  was 
more  to  it,  maybe.  That's  very  well. 
But  you've  another  one  I  daresay,  and 
you'll  tell  it  to  me,  won't  you?  " 

"  Tell  the  gentleman  your  other  name, 
Thomas,"  said  Walters,  "  and  say  sir. 
— You  mustn't  forget  your  manners." 
"  Thomas  Sawyer — sir." 
"  That's  it!  That's  a  good  boy.  Fine 
boy.  Fine,  manly  little  fellow.  Two 
thousand  verses  is  a  great  many — very, 
very  great  many.  And  you  never  can  be 
sorry  for  the  trouble  you  took  to  learn  them ;  for  knowledge  is  worth  more  than 
anything  there  is  in  the  world;  it's  what  makes  great  men  and  good  men;  you'll 
be  a  great  man  and  a  good  man  yourself,  some  day,  Thomas,  and  then  you'll  look 
back  and  say,  It's  all  owing  to  the  precious  Sunday-school  privileges  of  my  boy- 
hood— it's  all  owing  to  my  dear  teachers  that  taught  me  to  learn — it's  all  owing  to 
the  good  Superintendent,  who  encouraged  me,  and  watched  over  me,  and  gave  me 
a  beautiful  Bible — a  splendid  elegant  Bible,  to  keep  and  have  it  all  for  my  own, 
always — it's  all  owing  to  right  bringing  up  !  That  is  what  you  will  say,  Thomas — 
and  you  wouldn't  take  any  money  for  those  two  thousand  verses — no  indeed  you 
wouldn't.  And  now  you  wouldn't  mind  telling  me  and  this  lady  some  of  the  things 
you've  learned — no,  I  know  you  wouldn't — for  we  are  proud  of  little  boys  that 
learn.  Now  no  doubt  you  know  the  names  of  all  the  twelve  disciples.  Won't 
you  tell  us  the  names  of  the  first  two  that  were  appointed  ?  " 


TOM   AS  A   SUNDAY-SCHOOL    HERO. 


52 


TOM  SAWYER. 


Tom  was  tugging  at  a  button  hole  and  looking  sheepish.  He  blushed,  now, 
and  his  eyes  fell.  Mr.  Walters'  heart  sank  within  him.  He  said  to  himself,  it 
is  not  possible  that  the  boy  can  answer  the  simplest  question — why  did  the 
Judge  ask  him  ?  Yet  he  felt  obliged  to  speak  up  and  say  ; 

"  Answer  the  gentleman,  Thomas — don't  be  afraid." 

Tom  still  hung  fire. 

"  Now  I  know  you'll  tell  me  "  said  the  lady.  "  The  names  of  the  first  two 
disciples  were —  " 

"  DAVID  AND  GOLIAH  !  " 

Let  us  draw  the  curtain  of  charity  over  the  rest  of  the  scene. 


who 
there 


half-past  ten  the  cracked 
bell  of  the  small  church  began  to 
ring,  and  presently  the  people 
began  to  gather  for  the  morning 
sermon.  The  Sunday  school  chil- 
dren distributed  themselves  about 
the  house  and  occupied  pews  with 
their  parents,  so  as  to  be  under 
supervision.  Aunt  Polly  came, 
and  Tom  and  Sid  and  Mary  sat 
with  her — Tom  being  placed  next 
the  aisle,  in  order  that  he  might 
be  as  far  away  from  the  open 
window  and  the  seductive  out- 
side summer  scenes  as  possible. 
The  crowd  filed  up  the  aisles: 
the  aged  and  needy  postmaster, 
had  seen  better  days;  the  mayor  and  his  wife — for  they  had  a  mayor 


,  among  other   unnecessaries  ;    the  justice  of    the   peace;    the   widow 

53 


54 


TOM  SAWYER. 


Douglass,  fair,  smart  and  forty,  a  generous,  good-hearted  soul  and  well-to-do, 
her  hill  mansion  the  only  palace  in  the  town,  and  the  most  hospitable  and  much 
the  most  lavish  in  the  matter  of  festivities  that  St.  Petersburg  could  boast;  the 
bent  and  venerable  Major  and  Mrs.  Ward ;  lawyer  Riverson,  the  new  notable 
from  a  distance ;  next  the  belle  of  the  village,  followed  by  a  troop  of  lawn-clad 
and  ribbon-decked  young  heart-breakers;  then  all  the  young  clerks  in  town  in 
a  body — for  they  had  stood  in  the  vestibule  sucking  their  cane-heads,  a  circling 

wall  of  oiled  and  simpering  admirers,  till  the 
Jast  girl  had  run  their  gauntlet;  and  last  of 
all  came  the  Model  Boy,  Willie  Mufferson, 
taking  as  heedful  care  of  his  mother  as  if 
she  were  cut  glass.  He  always  brought  his 
mother  to  church,  and  was  the  pride  of  all 
the  matrons.  The  boys  all  hated  him,  he 
was  so  good.  And  besides,  he  had  been 
"thrown  up  to  them"  so  much.  His  white 
handkerchief  was  hanging  out  of  his  pocket 
behind,  as  usual  on  Sundays — accidentally. 
Tom  had  no  handkerchief,  and  he  looked 
upon  boys  who  had,  as  snobs. 

The  congregation  being  fully  assembled, 
now,  the  bell  rang  once  more,  to  warn  lag- 
gards and  stragglers,  and  then  a  solemn  hush 
fell  upon  the  church  which  was  only  broken 
by  the  tittering  and  whispering  of  the  choir  in  the  gallery.  The  choir  always 
tittered  and  whispered  all  through  service.  There  was  once  a  church  choir 
that  was  not  ill-bred,  but  I  have  forgotten  where  it  was,  now.  It  was  a  great 
many  years  ago,  and  I  can  scarcely  remember  anything  about  it,  but  I  think 
it  was  in  some  foreign  country. 

The  minister  gave  out  the  hymn,  and  read  it  through  with  a  relish,  in  a 
peculiar  style  which  was  much  admired  in  that  part  of  the  country.  His  voice 
began  on  a  medium  key  and  climbed  steadily  up  till  it  reached  a  certain  point, 


THE    MOUKL    BOY. 


A    USEFUL  MINISTER. 


55 


where  it  bore  with  strong  emphasis  upon  the  topmost  word  and  then  plunged 
down  as  if  from  a  spring-board : 

Shall  I  be  car-ri-ed  toe  the  skies,  on  flow'ry  bed* 

of  ease, 
Whilst  others  fight  to  win  the  prize,  and  sail  thro'  blood- 

-y  seas? 
He  was  regarded  as  a  wonderful  reader.    At  church  "sociables"  he  was 


THE   CHCTRCH    CHOIR. 

always  called  upon  to  read  poetry;  and  when  he  was  through,  the  ladies  would 
lift  up  their  hands  and  let  them  fall  helplessly  in  their  laps,  and  "  wall  "  their 
eyes,  and  shake  their  heads,  as  much  as  to  say,  "Words  cannot  express  it;  it  is 
too  beautiful,  too  beautiful  for  this  mortal  earth." 

After  the  hymn  had  been  sung,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Sprague  turned  himself  into  a 
bulletin  board,  and  read  off  "  notices  "  of  meetings  and  societies  and  things  till 
it  seemed  that  the  list  would  stretch  out  to  the  crack  of  doom — a  queer  custom 
which  is  still  kept  up  in  America,  even  in  cities,  away  here  in  this  age  of 
abundant  newspapers.  Often,  the  less  there  is  to  justify  a  traditional  custom, 
the  harder  it  is  to  get  rid  of  it. 


56  TO M  SA  WYER. 


And  now  the  minister  prayed.  A  good,  generous  prayer,  it  was,  and  went 
into  details :  it  pleaded  for  the  church,  and  the  little  children  of  the  church ; 
for  the  other  churches  of  the  village;  for  the  village  itself;  for  the  county ;  for 
the  State;  for  the  State  officers;  for  the  United  States;  for  the  churches  of  the 
United  States;  for  Congress;  for  the  President;  for  the  officers  of  the  Govern- 
ment; for  poor  sailors,  tossed  by  stormy  seas;  for  the  oppressed  millions 
groaning  under  the  heel  of  European  monarchies  and  Oriental  despotisms;  for 
such  as  have  the  light  and  the  good  tidings,  and  yet  have  not  eyes  to  see  nor 
ears  to  hear  withal ;  for  the  heathen  in  the  far  islands  of  the  sea ;  and  closed 
with  a  supplication  that  the  words  he  was  about  to  speak  might  find  grace  and 
favor,  and  be  as  seed  sown  in  fertile  ground,  yielding  in  time  a  grateful  harvest 
of  good.  Amen. 

There  was  a  rustling  of  dresses,  and  the  standing  congregation  sat  down. 
The  boy  whose  history  this  book  relates  did  not  enjoy  the  prayer,  he  only 
endured  it — if  he  even  did  that  much.  He  was  restive  all  through  it;  he  kept 
tally  of  the  details  of  the  prayer,  unconsciously — for  he  was  not  listening,  but 
he  knew  the  ground  of  old,  and  the  clergyman's  regular  route  over  it — and 
when  a  little  trifle  of  new  matter  was  interlarded,  his  ear  detected  it  and  his 
whole  nature  resented  it;  he  considered  additions  unfair,  and  scoundrelly.  In 
the  midst  of  the  prayer  a  fly  had  lit  on  the  back  of  the  pew  in  front  of  him 
and  tortured  his  spirit  by  calmly  rubbing  its  hands  together,  embracing  its 
head  with  its  arms,  and  polishing  it  so  vigorously  that  it  seemed  to  almost  part 
company  with  the  body,  and  the  slender  thread  of  a  neck  was  exposed  to  view  ; 
scraping  its  wings  with  its  hind  legs  and  smoothing  them  to  its  body  as  if  they 
had  been  coat  tails  ;  going  through  its  whole  toilet  as  tranquilly  as  if  it  knew 
it  was  perfectly  safe.  As  indeed  it  was;  for  as  sorely  as  Tom's  hands  itched  to 
grab  for  it  they  did  not  dare — he  believed  his  soul  would  be  instantly  destroyed 
if  he  did  such  a  thing  while  the  prayer  was  going  on.  But  with  the  closing 
sentence  his  hand  began  to  curve  and  steal  forward ;  and  the  instant  the  "  Amen  " 
was  out  the  fly  was  a  prisoner  of  war.  His  aunt  detected  the  act  and  made 
him  let  it  go. 

The  minister  gave  out  his  text  and  droned  along  monotonously  through  an 


IN  CHURCH. 


57 


argument  that  was  so  prosy  that  many  a  head  by  and  by  began  to  nod — and  yet 
it  was  an  argument  that  dealt  in  limitless  fire  and  brimstone  and  thinned  the 
predestined  elect  down  to  a  company  so  small  as  to  be  hardly  worth  the  saving. 
Tom  counted  the  pages  of  the  sermon  ;  after  church  he  always  knew  how  many 
pages  there  had  been,  but  he  seldom  knew  anything  else  about  the  discourse. 
However,  this  time  he  was  really  interested  for  a  little  while.  The  minister 
made  a  grand  and  moving  picture  of  the  assembling  together  of  the  world's 
hosts  at  the  millennium  when  the  lion  and  the  lamb  should  lie  down  together 
and  a  little  child  should  lead  them.  But  the  pathos,  the  lesson,  the  moral  of 
the  great  spectacle  were  lost  upon  the  boy ;  he  only  thought  of  the  conspicu- 
ousness  of  the  principal  character  before  the  on-looking  nations;  his  face 
lit  with  the  thought,  and  he  said  to  him- 
self that  he  wished  he  could  be  that  child, 
if  it  was  a  tame  lion. 

Now  he  lapsed  into  suffering  again, 
as  the  dry  argument  was  resumed.  Pres- 
ently he  bethought  him  of  a  treasure 
he  had  and  got  it  out.  It  was  a  large 
black  beetle  with  formidable  jaws  —  a 
"  pinch-bug,"  he  called  it.  It  was  in  a 
percussion-cap  box.  The  first  thing  the 
beetle  did  was  to  take  him  by  the  finger. 
A  natural  fillip  followed,  the  beetle  went 
floundering  into  the  aisle  and  lit  on  its 
back,  and  the  hurt  finger  went  into  the 
boy's  mouth.  The  beetle  lay  there  work- 
ing its  helpless  legs,  unable  to  turn  over. 
Tom  eyed  it,  and  longed  for  it;  but  it  was 
safe  out  of  his  reach.  Other  people  un- 
interested in  the  sermon,  found  relief  in 


A    SIDE    SHOW. 


the  beetle,  and  they  eyed  it  too.     Presently  a  vagrant  poodle  dog  came  idling 
along,  sad  at  heart,  lazy  with  the  summer  softness  and  the  quiet,  weary   of 


TOM  SAWYER. 


captivity,  sighing  for  change.  He  spied  the  beetle;  the  drooping  tail  lifted 
and  wagged.  He  surveyed  the  prize;  walked  around  it;  smelt  at  it  from 
a  safe  distance;  walked  around  it  again;  grew  bolder,  and  took  a  closer 
smell;  then  lifted  his  lip  and  made  a  gingerly  snatch  at  it,  just  missing 
it;  made  another,  and  another;  began  to  enjoy  the  diversion;  subsided  to  his 
stomach  with  the  beetle  between  his  paws,  and  continued  his  experiments; 
grew  weary  at  last,  and  then  indifferent  and  absent-minded.  His  head  nodded, 
and  little  by  little  his  chin  descended  and  touched  the  enemy,  who  seized  it. 
There  was  a  sharp  yelp,  a  flirt  of  the  poodle's  head,  and  the  beetle  fell  a  couple 
of  yards  away,  and  lit  on  its  back  once  more.  The  neighboring  spectators 
shook  with  a  gentle  inward  joy,  several  faces  went  behind  fans  and  handker- 
chiefs, and  Tom  was  entirely  happy.  The  dog  looked  foolish,  and  probably  felt 
so;  but  there  was  resentment  in  his  heart,  too,  and  a  craving  for  revenge.  So 
he  went  to  the  beetle  and  began  a  wary  attack  on  it  again ;  jumping  at  it  from 
every  point  of  a  circle,  lighting  with  his  fore  paws  within  an  inch  of  the  crea- 
ture, making  even  closer  snatches  at  it  with  his  teeth,  and  jerking  his  head  till 

his  ears  flapped  again.  But 
he  grew  tired  once  more, 
after  a  while ;  tried  to  amuse 
himself  with  a  fly  but  found 
no  relief;  followed  an  ant 
around,  with  his  nose  close 
to  the  floor,  and  quickly 
wearied  of  that;  yawned, 
sighed,  forgot  the  beetle 
entirely,  and  sat  down  on 
it!  Then  there  was  a  wild 
yelp  of  agony  and  the  poo- 
dle went  sailing  up  the 
aisle;  the  yelps  continued,  and  so  did  the  dog;  he  crossed  the  house  in  front 
of  the  altar;  he  flew  down  the  other  aisle;  he  crossed  before  the  doors;  he 
clamored  up  the  home-stretch ;  his  anguish  grew  with  his  progress,  till 


RESULT   OF    PLAYING    IN    CHURCH. 


THE  CLIMAX.  59) 


presently  he  was  but  a  woolly  comet  moving  in  its  orbit  with  the  gleam  and 
the  speed  of  light.  At  last  the  frantic  sufferer  sheered  from  its  course,  and 
sprang  into  its  master's  lap ;  he  flung  it  out  of  the  window,  and  the  voice  of 
distress  quickly  thinned  away  and  died  in  the  distance. 

By  this  time  the  whole  church  was  red-faced  and  suffocating  with  suppressed 
laughter,  and  the  sermon  had  come  to  a  dead  stand-still.  The  discourse  was 
resumed  presently,  but  it  went  lame  and  halting,  all  possibility  of  impressive- 
ness  being  at  an  end ;  for  even  the  gravest  sentiments  were  constantly  being 
received  with  a  smothered  burst  of  unholy  mirth,  under  cover  of  some  remote 
pew-back,  as  if  the  poor  parson  had  said  a  rarely  facetious  thing.  It  was  a 
genuine  relief  to  the  whole  congregation  when  the  ordeal  was  over  and  the,- 
benediction  pronounced. 

Tom  Sawyer  went  home  quite  cheerful,  thinking  to  himself  that  there  was 
some  satisfaction  about  divine  service  when  there  was  a  bit  of  variety  in  it.  He 
had  but  one  marring  thought;  he  was  willing  that  the  dog  should  play  with 
his  pinch-bug,  but  he  did  not  think  it  was  upright  in  him  to  carry  it  off. 


morning  found  Tom 
Sawyer  miserable.  Monday  morning 
always  found  him  so— because  it  began 
another  week's  slow  suffering  in  school. 
He  generally  began  that  day  with  wish- 
ing he  had  had  no  intervening  holiday, 
it  made  the  going  into  captivity  and 
fetters  again  so  much  more  odious. 

Tom  lay  thinking.  Presently  it  oc- 
curred to  him  that  he  wished  he  was 
sick ;  then  he  could  stay  home  from 
school.  Here  was  a  vague  possibility. 
He  canvassed  his  system.  No  ailment 
was  found,  and  he  investigated  again. 

•    *ri'/7Tir*"v77  '^*J4^»    H_Z_— 

\  u^>MLx>^5<i^gj^!^fe^>^i/A  This  time  he  thought  he  could  detect 
colicky  symptoms,  and  he  began  to  encourage  them  with  considerable  hope.  But 
they  soon  grew  feeble,  and  presently  died  wholly  away.  He  reflected  further. 

60 


SELF-EXAMINATION.  61 


Suddenly  he  discovered  something.  One  of  his  upper  front  teeth  was  loose. 
This  was  lucky  ;  he  was  about  to  begin  to  groan,  as  a  "starter,"  as  he  called  it, 
when  it  occurred  to  him  that  if  he  came  into  court  with  that  argument,  his  aunt 
would  pull  it  out,  and  that  would  hurt.  So  he  thought  he  would  hold  the  tooth  in 
reserve  for  the  present,  and  seek  further.  Nothing  offered  for  some  little  time,  and 
then  he  remembered  hearing  the  doctor  tell  about  a  certain  thing  that  laid  up  a 
patient  for  two  or  three  weeks  and  threatened  to  make  him  lose  a  finger.  So  the 
boy  eagerly  drew  his  sore  toe  from  under  the  sheet  and  held  it  up  for  inspection. 
But  now  he  did  not  know  the  necessary  symptoms.  However,  it  seemed  well 
worth  while  to  chance  it,  so  he  fell  to  groaning  with  considerable  spirit. 

But  Sid  slept  on  unconscious. 

Tom  groaned  louder,  and  fancied  that  he  began  to  feel  pain  in  the  toe. 

No  result  from  Sid. 

Tom  was  panting  with  his  exertions  by  this  time.  He  too-k  a  rest  and  then 
swelled  himself  up  and  fetched  a  succession  of  admirable  groans. 

Sid  snored  on. 

Tom  was  aggravated.  He  said,  "  Sid,  Sid !  "  and  shook  him.  This  course 
worked  well,  and  Tom  began  to  groan  again.  Sid  yawned,  stretched,  then  brought 
himself  up  on  his  elbow  with  a  snort,  and  began  to  stare  at  Tom.  Tom  went  on 
groaning.  Sid  said  : 

"  Tom  !  Say,  Tom !  "  [No  response.]  "  Here  Tom !  Tom !  What  is  the 
matter,  Tom  ?  "  And  he  shook  him  and  looked  in  his  face  anxiously. 

Tom  moaned  out : 

"O  don't,  Sid.     Don't  joggle  me." 

"Why  what's  the  matter  Tom?     I  must  call  auntie." 

"No — nevermind.     It'll  be  over  by  and  by,  maybe.     Don't  call  anybody." 

"  But  I  must !  Don't  groan  so,  Tom,  it's  awful.  How  long  you  been  this 
way  ?  " 

"  Hours.      Ouch  !     O  don't  stir  so,  Sid,  you'll  kill  me." 

"  Tom,  why  didn't  you  wake  me  sooner?  O,  Tom,  don't!  '  It  makes  my  flesh 
crawl  to  hear  you.  Tom,  what  is  the  matter?  " 

"  I  forgive  you  everything,  Sid.  [Groan.]  Everything  you've  ever  done  to 
me.  When  I'm  gone — " 


62  TOM  SAWYER. 


"  O,  Tom,  you  ain't  dying  are  you  ?     Don't,  Tom — O,  don't.     Maybe — " 

"  I  forgive  everybody,  Sid.  [Groan.]  Tell  'em  so,  Sid.  And  Sid,  you  give  my 
window-sash  and  my  cat  with  one  eye  to  that  new  girl  that's  come  to  town,  and 
tell  her — " 

But  Sid  had  snatched  his  clothes  and  gone.  Tom  was  suffering  in  reality,  now, 
so  handsomely  was  his  imagination  working,  and  so  his  groans  had  gathered 
quite  a  genuine  tone. 

Sid  flew  down  stairs  and  said : 

"  O,  Aunt  Polly,  come  !  Tom's  dying !  " 

"  Dying  !  " 

"  Yes'm.     Don't  wait — come  quick  !  " 

"  Rubbage  !     I  don't  believe  it !  " 

But  she  fled  up  stairs,  nevertheless,  with  Sid  and  Mary  at  her  heels.  And  her 
face  grew  white,  too,  and  her  lip  trembled.  When  she  reached  the  bedside  she 
gasped  out : 

"  You  Tom  !  Tom,  what's  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"O,  auntie,  I'm — " 

"What's  the  matter  with  you — what  is  the  matter  with  you,  child  ?  " 

"  O  auntie,  my  sore  toe's  mortified  !  " 

The  old  lady  sank  down  into  a  chair  and  laughed  a  little,  then  cried  a  little, 
then  did  both  together.  This  restored  her  and  she  said : 

"  Tom,  what  a  turn  you  did  give  me.  Now  you  shut  up  that  nonsense  and 
climb  out  of  this." 

The  groans  ceased  and  the  pain  vanished  from  the  toe.  The  boy  felt  a  little 
foolish,  and  he  said  : 

"Aunt  Polly  it  seemed  mortified,  and  it  hurt  so  I  never  minded  my  tooth  at  all." 

"  Your  tooth,  indeed  !     What's  the  matter  with  your  tooth  ?  " 

"  One  of  them's  loose,  and  it  aches  perfectly  awful." 

"There,  there,  now,  don't  begin  that  groaning  again.  Open  your  mouth.  Well 
— your  tooth  is  loose,  but  you're  not  going  to  die  about  that.  Mary  get  me  a  silk 
thread,  and  a  chunk  of  fire  out  of  the  kitchen." 

Tom  said : 


DENTISTRY. 


"  O,  please  auntie,  don't  pull  it  out.  It  don't  hurt  any  more.  I  wish  I  may 
never  stir  if  it  does.  Please  don't,  auntie.  /  don't  want  to  stay  home  from  school." 

"  Oh,  you  don't,  don't  you  ?  So  all  this  row  was  because  you  thought  you'd  get 
to  stay  home  from  school  and  go  a  fishing  ?  Tom,  Tom,  I  love  you  so,  and  you 
seem  to  try  every  way  you  can  to  break 
my  old  heart  with  your  outrageousness." 
By  this  time  the  dental  instruments  were 
ready.  The  old  lady  made  one  end  of  the 
silk  thread  fast  to  Tom's  tooth  with  a 
loop  and  tied  the  other  to  the  bed-post. 
Then  she  seized  the  chunk  of  fire  and 
suddenly  thrust  it  almost  into  the  boy's 
face.  The  tooth  hung  dangling  by  the 
bedpost,  now. 

But  all  trials  bring  their  compensations. 
As  Tom  wended  to  school  after  breakfast, 
he  was  the  envy  of  every  boy  he  met 
because  the  gap  in  his  upper  row  of  teeth 
enabled  him-  to  expectorate  in  a  new  and 
admirable  way.  He  gathered  quite  a  fol- 
lowing of  lads  interested  in  the  exhibition; 
and  one  that  had  cut  his  finger  and  had  DENTISTRY. 

been  a  centre  of  fascination  and  homage  up  to  this  time,  now  found  himself 
suddenly  without  an  adherent,  and  shorn  of  his  glory.  His  heart  was  heavy,  and 
he  said  with  a  disdain  which  he  did  not  feel,  that  it  wasn't  anything  to  spit  like 
Tom  Sawyer;  but  another  boy  said  "  Sour  grapes !  "  and  he  wandered  away  a  dis- 
mantled hero. 

Shortly  Tom  came  upon  the  juvenile  pariah  of  the  village,  Huckleberry  Finn, 
son  of  the  town  drunkard.  Huckleberry  was  cordially  -hated  and  dreaded  by  all 
the  mothers  of  the  town,  because  .he  was  idle,  and  lawless,  and  vulgar  and  bad — 
and  because  all  their  children  admired  him  so,  and  delighted  in  his  forbidden 
society,  and  wished  they  dared  to  be  like  him.  Tom  was  like  the  rest  of  the 


6  4 


TOM  SAWYER. 


respectable  boys,  in  that  he  envied  Huckleberry  his  gaudy  outcast  condition,  and 
was  under  strict  orders  not  to  play  with  him.  So  he  played  with  him  every  time 
he  got  a  chance.  Huckleberry  was  always  dressed  in  the  cast-off  clothes  of  full- 
grown  men,  and  they  were  in  perennial  bloom  and  fluttering  with  rags.  His  hat 
was  a  vast  ruin  with  a  wide  crescent  lopped  out  of  its  brim  ;  his  coat,  when  he 
wore  one,  hung  nearly  to  his  heels  and  had  the  rearward  buttons  far  down  the 
back  ;  but  one  suspender  supported  his  trousers;  the  seat  of  the  trousers  bagged 
low  and  contained  nothing;  the  fringed  legs  dragged  in  the  dirt  when  not  rolled  up. 
Huckleberry  came  and  went,  at  his  own  free  will.  He  slept  on  door-steps  in  fine 
weather  and  in  empty  hogsheads  in  wet ;  he  did  not  have  to  go  to  school  or  to  church, 
or  call  any  being  master  or  obey  anybody ;  he  could  go  fishing  or  swimming  when 
and  where  he  chose,  and  stay  as  long  as  it  suited  him ;  nobody  forbade  him  to 

fight ;  he  could  sit  up  as  late  as  he  pleased : 
he  was  always  the  first  boy  that  went  barefoot 
in  the  spring  and  the  last  to  resume  leather 
in  the  fall ;  he  never  had  to  wash,  nor  put  on 
clean  clothes;  he  could  swear  wonderfully. 
In  a  word,  everything  that  goes  to  make  life 
precious,  that  boy  had.  So  thought  every 
harassed,  hampered,  respectable  boy  in  St. 
Petersburgh. 

Tom  hailed  the  romantic  outcast : 
"  Hello,  Huckleberry  !  " 
"  Hello  yourself,  and  see  how  you  like  it." 
"  What's  that  you  got  ?  " 
"  Dead  cat." 

"Lemme  see  him   Huck.     My,  he's  pretty 
stiff.     Where'd  you  get  him  ?  " 

"  Bought  him  off'n  a  boy." 
"  What  did  you  give  ?  " 

"  I  give  a  blue  ticket  and  a  bladder  that  I  got  at  the  slaughter  house." 
"  Where'd  you  get  the  blue  ticket  ?  " 


HUCKLEBERRY 


THE  MIDNIGHT  CHARM.  65 


"Bought  it  off'n  Ben  Rogers  two  weeks  ago  for  a  hoop-stick." 

"  Say — what  is  dead  cats  good  for,  Huck  ?  " 

"  Good  for?     Cure  warts  with." 

"  No  !     Is  that  so  ?     I  know  something  that's  better." 

"  I  bet  you  don't.     What  is  it  ?  " 

"Why,  spunk-water." 

"Spunk-water!     I  wouldn't  give  a  dern  for  spunk-water." 

"  You  wouldn't  wouldn't  you  ?     D'you  ever  try  it?  " 

"  No,  I  hain't.     But  Bob  Tanner  did." 

"Who  told  you  so  !  " 

"  Why  he  told  Jeff  Thatcher,  and  Jeff  told  Johnny  Baker,  and  Johnny  told  Jim 
Hollis,  and  Jim  told  Ben  Rogers,  and  Ben  told  a  nigger,  and  the  nigger  told  me. 
There  now !  " 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  They'll  all  lie.  Leastways  all  but  the  nigger.  I  don't  know 
him.  But  I  never  see  a.  nigger  that  wouldn't  lie.  Shucks !  Now  you  tell  me  how 
Bob  Tanner  done  it,  Huck." 

"  Why  he  took  and  dipped  his  hand  in  a  rotten  stump  where  the  rain  water  was." 

"  In  the  day  time  ?  " 

"Certainly." 

"  With  his  face  to  the  stump  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Least  I  reckon  so." 

"  Did  he  say  anything?  " 

"  I  don't  reckon  he  did.     I  don't  know." 

"Aha!     Talk  about  trying  to  cure  warts  with  spunk-water  such  a  blame  fool 
way  as  that !     Why  that  ain't  a  going  to  do  any  good.     You  got  to  go  all  by  your- 
self, to  the  middle  of  the  woods,  where  you  know  there's  a  spunk-water  stump,  and 
just  as  it's  midnight  you  back  up  against  the  stump  and  jam  your  hand  in  and  say: 
"  Barley-corn,  Barley-corn,  injun-meal  shorts, 
Spunk-water,  spunk-water,  swaller  these  warts." 

and  then  walk  away  quick,  eleven  steps,  with  your  eyes  shut,  and  then  turn  around 
three  times  and  walk  home  without  speaking  to  anybody.     Because  if  you  speak 
the  charm's  busted." 
5 


66  TOM  SAWYER. 


"Well  that  sounds  like  a  good  way;  but  that  ain't  the  way  Bob  Tanner  done." 

"No,  sir,  you  can  bet  he  didn't,  becuz  he's  the  wartiest  boy  in  this  town;  and 
he  wouldn't  have  a  wart  on  him  if  he'd  knowed  how  to  work  spunk-water.  I've 
took  off  thousands  of  warts  off  of  my  hands  that  way  Huck.  I  play  with  frogs  so 
much  that  I've  always  got  considerable  many  warls.  Sometimes  I  take  'em  off 
with  a  bean." 

"Yes,  bean's  good.     I've  done  that." 

"  Have  you  ?     What's  your  way  ?  " 

"  You  take  and  split  the  bean,  and  cut  the  wart  so  as  to  get  some  blood,  and 
then  you  put  the  blood  on  one  piece  of  the  bean  and  take  and  dig  a  hole  and  bury 
it  'bout  midnight  at  the  cross-roads  in  the  dark  of  the  moon,  and  then  you  burn 
up  the  rest  of  the  bean.  You  see  that  piece  that's  got  the  blood  on  it  will  keep 
drawing  and  drawing,  trying  to  fetch  the  other  piece  to  it,  and  so  that  helps  the 
blood  to  draw  the  wart,  and  pretty  soon  off  she  comes." 

"Yes  that's  it  Huck— that's  it;  though  when  you're  burying  it  if  you  say  'Down 
bean;  off  wart;  come  no  more  to  bother  me!'  it's  better.  That's  the  way  Jo 
Harper  does,  and  he's  been  nearly  to  Coonville  and  most  everywheres.  But  say 
— how  do  you  cure  'em  with  dead  cats  ?  " 

"  Why  you  take  your  cat  and  go  and  get  in  the  graveyard  'long  about  midnight 
when  somebody  that  was  wicked  has  been  buried;  and  when  it's  midnight  a  devil 
will  come,  or  maybe  two  or  three,  but  you  can't  see  'em,  you  can  only  hear  some- 
thing like  the  wind,  or  maybe  hear  'em  talk;  and  when  they're  taking  that  feller 
away,  you  heave  your  cat  after  'em  and  say  'Devil  follow  corpse,  cat  follow  devil, 
warts  follow  cat,  /'m  done  with  ye!  '  That'll  fetch  any  wart." 

"  Sounds  right.     D'you  ever  try  it,  Huck?  " 

"  No,  but  old  mother  Hopkins  told  me." 

"Well  I  reckon  it's  so,  then.     Becuz  they  say  she's  a  witch." 

"  Say  !  Why  Tom  I  know  she  is.  She  witched  pap.  Pap  says  so  his  own  self. 
He  come  along  one  day,  and  he  see  she  was  a  witching  him,  so  he  took  up  a  rock, 
and  if  she  hadn't  dodged,  he'd  a  got  her.  Well  that  very  night  he  rolled  offn  a 
shed  wher'  he  was  a  layin  drunk,  and  broke  his  arm." 

"  Why  that's  awful.     How  did  he  know  she  was  a  witching  him." 


WITCHES  AND  DEVILS. 


"  Lord,  pap  can  tell,  easy.  Pap  says  when  they  keep  looking  at  you  right  stiddy, 
they're  a  witching  you.  Specially  if  they  mumble.  Becuz  when  they  mumble 
they're  saying  the  Lord's  Prayer  back-ards."  ,  L  . 

"  Say,  Hucky,  when  you  going  to  try  the 
cat  ?  " 

"  To-night.  I  reckon  they'll  come  after  old 
Hoss  Williams  to-night." 

"But  they  buried  him  Saturday.  Didn't 
they  get  him  Saturday  night  ?  " 

"  Why  how  you  talk !  How  could  their 
charms  work  till  midnight? — and  then  it's 
Sunday.  Devils  don't  slosh  around  much  of  a 
Sunday,  I  don't  reckon." 

"I  never  thought  of  that.  That's  so. 
Lemme  go  with  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course — if  you  ain't  afeard." 

"Afeard!    'Tain't  likely.    Will  you  meow?" 

"  Yes — and  you  meow  back,  if  you  get  a 
chance.  Last  time,  you  kep'  me  a  meowing 
around  till  old  Hays  went  to  throwing  rocks  at 
me  and  says  '  Dern  that  cat ! '  and  so  I  hove  a 
brick  through  his  window — but  don't  you  tell." 

"  I  won't.  I  couldn't  meow  that  night,  becuz  auntie  was  watching  me,  but  I'll 
meow  this  time.  Say — what's  that  ?  " 

"  Nothing  but  a  tick." 

"  Where'd  you  get  him  ?  " 

"  Out  in  the  woods.**" 

"What '11  you  take  for  him?  " 

"I  don't  know.     I  don't  want  to  sell  him." 

"  All  right.     It's  a  mighty  small  tick,  anyway." 

"  O,  anybody  can  run  a  tick  down  that  don't  belong  to  them.  I'm  satisfied  with 
it.-  It's  a  good  enough  tick  for  me." 


MOTHER    HOPKINS. 


68  TOM  SAW YE 'R. 


"  Sho,  there's  ticks  a  plenty.     I  could  have  a  thousand  of  'em  if  I  wanted  to." 

"  Well  why  don't  you  ?  Becuz  you  know  mighty  well  you  can't.  This  is  a 
pretty  early  tick,  I  reckon.  It's  the  first  one  I've  seen  this  year." 

"  Say  Huck — I'll  give  you  my  tooth  for  him." 

"Less  see  it." 

Tom  got  out  a  bit  of  paper  and  carefully  unrolled  it.  Huckleberry  viewed  it 
wistfully.  The  temptation  was  very  strong.  At  last  he  said : 

"  Is  it  genuwyne  ?  " 

Tom  lifted  his  lip  aud  showed  the  vacancy. 

"Well,  all  right,"  said  Huckleberry,  "  it's  a  trade." 

Tom  enclosed  the  tick  in  the  percussion-cap  box  that  had  lately  been  the  pinch- 
bug's  prison,  and  the  boys  separated,  each  feeling  wealthier  than  before. 

When  Tom  reached  the  little  isolated  frame  School-house,  he  strode  in  briskly, 
with  the  manner  of  one  who  had  come  with  all  honest  speed.  He  hung  his  hat 
on  a  peg  and  flung  himself  into  his  seat  with  business-like  alacrity.  The  master, 
throned  on  high  in  his  great  splint-bottom  arm-chair,  was  dozing,  lulled  by  the 
drowsy  hum  of  study.  The  interruption  roused  him. 

"Thomas  Sawyer!  " 

Tom  knew  that  when  his  name  was  pronounced  in  full,  it  meant  trouble. 

"  Sir !  " 

"  Come  up  here.     Now  sir,  why  are  you  late  again,  as  usual  ?  " 

Tom  was  about  to  take  refuge  in  a  lie,  when  he  saw  two  long  tails  of  yellow  hair 
hanging  down  a  back  that  he  recognized  by  the  electric  sympathy  of  love ;  and  by 
that  form  was  the  only  vacant  place  on  the  girl's  side  of  the  school-house.  He 
instantly  said  : 

"  I  STOPPED  TO  TALK  WITH  HUCKLEBERRY  FlNN  !  " 

The  master's  pulse  stood  still,  and  he  stared  helplessly.  The  buzz  of  study 
ceased.  The  pupils  wondered  if  this  fool-hardy  boy  had  lost  .his  mind.  The 
master  said : 

"  You — you  did  what  ?  " 

"  Stopped  to  talk  with  Huckleberry  Finn." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  words. 


CA  UTIOUS  APPROACHES. 


69 


"  Thomas  Sawyer,  this  is  the  most  astounding  confession  I  have  ever  listened  to. 
No  mere  ferule  will  answer  for  this  offence.     Take  off  your  jacket." 

The  master's  arm  performed  until  it  was  tired  and  the  stock  of  switches  notably 
diminished.      Then   the   order  followed : 

"  Now  sir,  go  and  sit  with  the  girls ! 
And  let  this  be  a  warning  to  you." 

The  titter  that  rippled  around  the  room 
appeared  to  abash  the  boy,  but  in  reality 
that  result  was  caused  rather  more  by  his 
worshipful  awe  of  his  unknown  idol  and 
the  dread  pleasure  that  lay  in  his  high 
good  fortune.  He  sat  down  upon  the  end 
of  the  pine  bench  and  the  girl  hitched 
herself  away  from  him  with  a  toss  of  her 
head.  Nudges  and  winks  and  whispers 
traversed  the  room,  but  Tom  sat  still, 
with  his  arms  upon  the  long,  low  desk 
before  him,  and  seemed  to  study  his  book. 

By  and  by  attention  ceased  from  him, 
and  the  accustomed  school  murmur  rose 
upon  the  dull  air  once  more.  Presently 
the  boy  began  to  steal  furtive  glances  at  the  girl.  She  observed  it,  "  made  a 
mouth  "  at  him  and  gave  him  the  back  of  her  head  for  the  space  of  a  minute. 
When  she  cautiously  faced  around  again,  a  peach  lay  before  her.  She  thrust  it 
away.  Tom  gently  put  it  back.  She  thrust  it  away,  again,  but  with  less  ani- 
mosity. Tom  patiently  returned  it  to  its  place.  Then  she  let  it  remain.  Tom 
scrawled  on  his  slate,  "  Please  take  it — I  got  more."  The  girl  glanced  at  the 
words,  but  made  no  sign.  Now  the  boy  began  to  draw  something  on  the  slate, 
hiding  his  work  with  his  left  hand.  For  a  time  the  girl  refused  to  notice ;  but 
her  human  curiosity  presently  began  to  manifest  itself  by  hardly  perceptible  signs. 
The  boy  worked  on,  apparently  unconcious.  The  girl  made  a  sort  of  non-com- 
mittal attempt  to  see,  but  the  boy  did  not  betray  that  he  was  aware  of  it.  At  last 
she  gave  in  and  hesitatingly  whispered : 


RESULT    OF   TOM'S    TRUTHFULNESS. 


7o 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


"  Let  me  see  it." 

Tom  partly  uncovered  a  dismal  caricature  of  a  house  with  two  gable  ends  to  it 
and  a    cork-screw  of  smoke  issuing  from  the  chimney.     Then  the  girl's  interest 
began  to  fasten  itself  upon  the  work  and  she  forgot  everything  else.     When  it  was 
finished,  she  gazed  a  moment,  then  whispered  : 
"  It's  nice — make  a  man." 

The  artist  erected  a  man  in  the  front  yard,  that  resembled  a  derrick.  He  could 
have  stepped  over  the  house  ;  but  the  girl  was  not  hypercritical ;  she  was  satisfied 
with  the  monster,  and  whispered : 

"  It's  a  beautiful  man — now  make  me  coming  along." 

Tom  drew  an  hour-glass'  with  a  full  moon  and  straw  limbs  to  it  and  armed  the 

spreading  fingers  with  a  por- 
tentous fan.     The  girl  said : 

"  It's  ever  so  nice — I  wish  I 
could  draw." 

"  It's  easy,"  whispered  Tom, 
"I'll  learn  you." 

"  O,  will  you  ?     When  ?  " 
"  At  noon.   Do  you  go  home 
to  dinner  ?  " 

"  I'll  stay  if  you  will." 
"  Good,  —  that's    a  .  whack. 
TOM  AS  AN  ARTIST.  What's  your  name  ?  " 

"  Becky  Thatcher.     What's  yours  ?     Oh,  I  know.     It's  Thomas  Sawyer." 
"  That's  the  name  they  lick  me  by.    I'm  Tom  when  I'm  good.     You  call  me 
Tom,  will  you  ?  " 
"Yes." 

Now  Tom  began  to  scrawl  something  on  the  slate,  hiding  the  words  from  the 
girl.     But  she  was  not  backward  this  time.     She  begged  to  see.     Tom  said : 
"  Oh  it  ain't  anything." 
"Yes  it  is." 
"  No  it  ain't.    You  don't  want  to  see." 


HAPPY  HOURS. 


"  Yes  I  do,  indeed  I  do.     Please  let  me." 

"You'll  tell." 

"  No  I  won't — deed  and  deed  and  double  deed  I  won't." 

"  You  won't  tell  anybody  at  all?     Ever,  as  long -as  you  live?  " 

"  No  I  won't  ever  tell  anybody.     Now  let  me." 

"  Oh,  you  don't  want  to  see  !  " 

"  Now  that  you  treat  me  so,  I  will  see."     And  she  put  her  small  hand  upon  his 
and  a  little  scuffle  ensued,  Tom  pretend- 
ing to   resist  in  earnest  but  letting  his 
hand   slip   by  degrees   till   these   words 
were  revealed :     "  /  love  you. " 

"  O,  you  bad  thing!"  And  she  hit 
his  hand  a  smart  rap  but  reddened  and 
looked  pleased,  nevertheless. 

Just  at  this  juncture  the  boy  felt  a 
slow,  fateful  grip  closing  on  his  ear,  and 
a  steady  lifting  impulse.  In  that  vise  he 
was  borne  across  the  house  and  deposited 
in  his  own  seat,  under  a  peppering  fire  of 
giggles  from  the  whole  school.  Then  the 
master  stood  over  him  during  a  few  awful 
moments,  and  finally  moved  away  to  his 
throne  without  saying  a  word.  But  al- 
though Tom's  ear  tingled,  his  heart  was  jubilant. 

As  the  school  quieted  down  Tom  made  an  honest  effort  to  study,  but  the 
turmoil  within  him  was  too  great.  In  turn  he  took  his  place  in  the  reading  class 
and  made  a  botch  of  it ;  then  in  the  geography  class  and  turned  lakes  into  moun- 
tains, mountains  into  rivers,  and  rivers  into  continents,  till  chaos  was  come  again ; 
then  in  the  spelling  class,  and  got  "turned  down,"  by  a  succession  of  mere  baby 
words  till  he  brought  up  at  the  foot  and  yielded  up  the  pewter  medal  which  he 
had  worn  with  ostentation  for  months. 


INTERRUPTED   COURTSHIP. 


harder  Tom  tried  to  fasten 
his  mind  on  his  book,  the  more  his 
ideas  wandered.  So  at  last,  with  a 
sigh  and  a  yawn,  he  gave  it  up.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  the  noon  recess 
would  never  come.  The  air  was 
utterly  dead.  There  was  not  a  breath 
stirring.  It  was  the  sleepiest  of 
sleepy  days.  The  drowsing  murmur 
of  the  five  and  twenty  studying 
scholars,  soothed  the  soul  like  the 
spell  that  is  in  the  murmur  of  bees. 
Away  off  in  the  flaming  sunshine, 
Cardiff  Hill  lifted  its  soft  green  sides 
through  a  shimmering  veil  of  heat, 
tinted  with  the  purple  of  distance; 
a  few  birds  floated  on  lazy  wing  high 
in  the  air;  no  other  living  thing  was  visible  but  some  cows,  and  they  were 
asleep.  Tom's  heart  ached  to  be  free,  or  else  to  have  something  of  interest 


A    TREATY  ENTERED  INTO.  73 

to  do  to  pass  the  dreary  time.  His  hand  wandered  into  his  pocket  and  his  face 
lit  up  with  a  glow  of  gratitude  that  was  prayer,  though  he  did  not  know  it. 
Then  furtively  the  percussion-cap  box  came  out.  He  released  the  tick  and  put 
him  on  the  long  flat  desk.  The  creature  probably  glowed  with  a  gratitude  that 
amounted  to  prayer,  too,  at  this  moment,  but  it  was  premature :  for  when  he 
started  thankfully  to  travel  off,  Tom  turned  him  aside  with  a  pin  and  made  him 
take  a  new  direction. 

Tom's  bosom  friend  sat  next  him,  suffering  just  as  Tom  had  been,  and  now 
he  was  deeply  and  gratefully  interested  in  this  entertainment  in  an  instant. 
This  bosom  friend  was  Joe  Harper.  The  two  boys  were  sworn  friends  all  the 
week,  and  embattled  enemies  on  Saturdays.  Joe  took  a  pin  out  of  his  lappel 
and  began  to  assist  in  exercising  the  prisoner.  The  sport  grew  in  interest 
momently.  Soon  Tom  said  that  they  were  interfering  with  each  other,  and 
neither  getting  the  fullest  benefit  of  the  tick.  So  he  put  Joe's  slate  on  the 
desk  and  drew  a  line  down  the  middle  of  it  from  top  to  bottom. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  as  long  as  he  is  on  your  side  you  can  stir  him  up  and  I'll 
let  him  alone;  but  if  you  let  him  get  away  and  get  on  my  side,  you're  to  leave 
him  alone  as  long  as  I  can  keep  him  from  crossing  over." 

"  All  right,  go  ahead  ;  start  him  up." 

The  tick  escaped  from  Tom,  presently,  and  crossed  the  equator.  Joe  harassed 
him  'a  while,  and  then  he  got  away  and  crossed  back  again.  This  change  of 
base  occurred  often.  While  one  boy  was  worrying  the  tick  with  absorbing 
interest,  the  other  would  look  on  with  interest  as  strong,  the  two  heads  bowed 
together  over  the  slate,-  and  the  two  souls  dead  to  all  things  else.  At  last  luck 
seemed  to  settle  and  abide  with  Joe.  The  tick  tried  this,  that,  and  the  other 
course,  and  got  as  excited  and  as  anxious  as  the  boys  themselves,  but  time  and 
again  just  as  he  would  have  victory  in  his  very  grasp,  so  to  speak,  and  Tom's 
fingers  would  be  twitching  to  begin,  Joe's  pin  would  deftly  head  him  off,  and 
keep  possession.  At  last  Tom  could  stand  it  no  longer.  The  temptation  was 
too  strong.  So  he  reached  out  and  lent  a  hand  with  his  pin.  Joe  was  angry 
in  a  moment.  Said  he: 

"  Tom,  you  let  him  alone." 


74  T0!\f  SAWYER. 


11 1  only  just  want  to  stir  him  up  a  little,  Joe." 

"  No,  sir, , it  ain't  fair;  you  just  let  him  alone." 

"Blame  it,  I  ain't  going  to  stir  him  much." 

"  Let  him  alone,  I  tell  you ! " 

*'  I  won't !  " 

"  You  shall — he's  on  my  side  of  the  line." 

"  Look  here,  Joe  Harper,  whose  is  that  tick  ?  " 

"/don't  care  whose  tick  he  is — he's  on  my  side  of  the  line,  and  you  shan't 
touch  him." 

"  Well  I'll  just  bet  I  will,  though.  H*e's  my  tick  and  I'll  do  what  I  blame 
please  with  him,  or  die  !  " 

A  tremendous  whack  came  down  on  Tom's  shoulders,  and  its  duplicate  on 
Joe's;  and  for  the  space  of  two  minutes  the  dust  continued  to  fly  from  the  two 
jackets  and  the  whole  school  to  enjoy  it.  The  boys  had  been  too  absorbed  to 
notice  the  hush  that  had  stolen  upon  the  school  a  while  before  when  the  master 
came  tip-toeing  down  the  room  and  stood  over  them.  He  had  contemplated  a 
good  part  of  the  performance  before  he  contributed  his  bit  of  variety  to  it. 

When  school  broke  up  at  noon,  Tom  flew  to  Becky  Thatcher,  and  whispered 
in  her  ear: 

"  Put  on  your  bonnet  and  let  on  you're  going  home ;  and  when  you  get  to 
the  corner,  give  the  rest  of  'em  the  slip,  and  turn  down  through  the  lane  and 
come  back.  I'll  go  the  other  way  and  come  it  over  'em  the  same  way." 

So  the  one  went  off  with  one  group  of  scholars,  and  the  other  with  another. 
In  a  h.  le  while  the  two  met  at  the  bottom  of  the  lane,  and  when  they  reached 
the  schoox  >ey  had  it  all  to  themselves.  Then  they  sat  together,  with  a  slate 
before  them,  and  Tom  gave  Becky  the  pencil  and  held  her  hand  in  his,  guiding 
it,  and  so  created  another  surprising  house.  When  the  interest  in  art  began  to 
wane,  the  two  fell  to  talking.  Tom  was  swimming  in  bliss.  He  said: 

"Do  you  love  rats?" 

"  No !     I  hate  them  !  " 

"  Well,  I  do  too — live  ones.  But  I  mean  dead  ones,  to  swing  round  your  head 
with  a  string." 


EARL  Y  LESSONS.  75 


"  No,  I  don't  care  for  rats  much,  anyway.     What  /  like  is  chewing-gum." 

"  O,  I  should  say  so  !     I  wish  I  had  some  now." 

"  Do  you  ?  I've  got  some.  I'll  let  you  chew  it  awhile,  but  you  must  give  it 
back  to  me." 

That  was  agreeable,  so  they  chewed  it  turn  about,  and  dangled  their  legs 
against  the  bench  in  excess  of  contentment. 

tl  Was  you  ever  at  a  circus  ?  "  said  Tom. 

"  Yes,  and  my  pa's  going  to  take  me  again  some  time,  if  I'm  good." 

"  I  been  to  the  circus  three  or  four  times — lots  of  times.  Church  ain't  shucks 
to  a  circus.  There's  things  going  on  at  a  circus  all  the  time.  I'm  going  to  be 
a  clown  in  a  circus  when  I  grow  up." 

"  O,  are  you !     That  will  be  nice.     They're  so  lovely,  all  spotted  up." 

"  Yes,  that's  so.  And  they  get  slathers  of  money — most  a  dollar  a  day,  Ben 
Rogers  says.  Say,  Becky,  was  you  ever  engaged  ?  " 

"  What's  that  ?  " 

"Why,  engaged  to  be  married." 

"No." 

"Would  you  like  to?" 

"  I  reckon  so.     I  don't  know.     What  is  it  like  ?  " 

"Like?"  Why  it  ain't  like  anything.  You  only  just  telf  a  boy  you  wont 
ever  have  any  body  but  him,  ever  ever  ever,  and  then  you  kiss  and  that's  alL 
Anybody  can  do  it." 

"  Kiss  ?     What  do  you  kiss  for  ?  " 

"Why  that,  you  know,  is  to — well,  they  always  do  that/51 

"  Everybody  ?  " 

"Why  yes,  everybody  that's  in  love  with  each  other.  Do  you  remember 
what  I  wrote  on  the  slate  ?  " 

«  Ye— yes." 

"  What  was  it  ? " 

"  I  shant  tell  you." 

"Shall  I  tellj^K?" 

"  Ye — yes — but  some  other  time." 


7  6  TOM  SAWYER. 


"  No,  now." 

"No,  not  now — to-morrow." 

"  O,  no,  now.     Please  Becky — I'll  whisper  it,  I'll  whisper  it  ever  so  easy." 

Becky  hesitating,  Tom  took  silence  for  consent,  and  passed  his  arm  about 
her  waist  and  whispered  the  tale  ever  so  softly,  with  his  mouth  close  to  her  ear. 
And  then  he  added : 

"  Now  you  whisper  it  to  me — just  the  same." 

She  resisted,  for  a  while,  and  then  said : 

"  You  turn  your  face  away  so  you  can't  see,  and  then  I  will.  But  you  mustn't 
ever  tell  anybody — will  you,  Tom  ?  Now  you  won't,  will  you  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed  indeed  I  won't.     Now  Becky." 

He  turned  his  face  away.  She  bent  timidly  around  till  her  breath  stirred  his 
curls  and  whispered,  "  I — love — you  ! " 

Then  she  sprang  away  and  ran  around  and  around  the  desks  and  benches, 
with  Tom  after  her,  and  took  refuge  in  a  corner  at  last,  with  her  little  white 
apron  to  her  face.  Tom  clasped  her  about  her  neck  and  pleaded  : 

"  Now  Becky,  it's  all  done — all  over  but  the  kiss.  Don't  you  be  afraid  of  that 
— it  aint  anything  at  all.  Please,  Becky." — And  he  tugged  at  her  apron  and 
the  hands. 

By  and  by  she  gave  up,  and  let  her  hands  drop ;  her  face,  all  glowing  with 
-the  struggle,  came  up  and  submitted.  Tom  kissed  the  red  lips  and  said : 

"  Now  it's  all  done,  Becky.  And  always  after  this,  you  know,  you  ain't  ever 
to  love  anybody  but  me,  and  you  ain't  ever  to  marry  anybody  but  me,  never 
never  and  forever.  Will  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I'll  never  lore  anybody  but  you,  Tom,  and  I'll  never  marry  anybody 
but  you — and.you  ain't  to  ever  marry  anybody  but  me,  either." 

"  Certainly.  Of  course.  That's  part  of  it.  And  always  coming  to  school 
or  when  we're  going  home,  you're  to  walk  jvith  me,  when  there  ain't  anybody 
looking — and  you  choose  me  and  I  choose  you  at  parties,  because  that's  the 
way  you  do  when  you're  engaged." 

"  It's  so  nice.     I  never  heard  of  it  before." 

"  Oh  its  ever  so  gay !     Why  me  and  Amy  Lawrence  "— > 


A  MISTAKE  MADE. 


77 


The  big  eyes  told  Tom  his  blunder  and  he  stopped,  confused. 
"  O,  Tom  !     Then  I  ain't  the  first  you've  ever  been  engaged  to  !  " 
The  child  began  to  cry.     Tom  said : 
"  O  don't  cry,  Becky,  I  don<t  care  for  her  any  more." 
"Yes  you  do,  Tom, — you  know  you  do." 

Tom  tried  to  put  his  arm  about  her  neck,  but  she  pushed  him  away,  and 
turned  her  face  to  the  wall,  and  went  on  crying.  Tom  tried  again,  with  sooth- 
ing words  in  his  mouth,  and  was  repulsed  again.  Then  his  pride  was  up,  and 
he  strode  away  and  went  outside.  He  stood  about,  restless  and  uneasy,  for  a 
while,  glancing  at  the  door,  every  now  and  then,  hoping  she  would  repent  and 
come  to  find  him.  But  she  did  not.  Then  he  began  to  feel  badly  and  fear  that 

he  was  in  the  wrong.  It  was  a  hard  strug- 
gle with  him  to  make  new  advances,  now, 
but  he  nerved  himself  to  it  and  entered. 
She  was  still  standing  back  there  in  the 
corner,  sobbing,  with  her  face  to  the  wall. 
Tom's  heart  smote  him.  He  went  to  her 
and  stood  a  moment,  not  knowing  exactly 
how  to  proceed.  Then  he  said  hesitatingly: 
"  Becky,  I — I  don't  care  for  anybody  but 
you." 

No  reply — but  sobs. 

"  Becky," —  pleadingly.    "  Becky,  won't 
you  say  something  ? " 
More  sobs. 

Tom  got  out  his  chiefest  jewel,  a  brass 
knob  from  the  top  of  an   andiron,  and 
passed  it  around  her  so  that  she  could  see 
TAIN  PLEAD.NG.  it,  and  said : 

"Please,  Becky,  won't  you   take   it?" 

She  struck  it  to  the  floor.  Then  Tom  marched  out  of  the  house  and  over 
the  hills  and  far  away,  to  return  to  school  no  more  that  day.  Presently  Becky 


TOM  SAWYER. 


began  to  suspect.  She  ran  to  the  door ;  he  was  not  in  sight ;  she  flew  around 
to  the  play -yard ;  he  was  not  there.  Then  she  called  : 

"Tom!"  Come  back  Tom  !" 

She  listened  intently,  but  there  was  no  answer.  She  had  no  companions  but 
silence  and  loneliness.  So  she  sat  down  to  cry  again  and  upbraid  herself;  and 
by  this  time  the  scholars  began  to  gather  again,  and  she  had  to  hide  her  griefs 
and  still  her  broken  heart  and  take  up  the  cross  of  a  long,  dreary,  aching 
afternoon,  with  none  among  the  strangers  about  her  to  exchange  sorrows  with. 


•&• 


stirring; 
lay  in   a 


dodged  hither  and  thither 
through  lanes  until  he  was  well  out 
of  the  track  of  returning  scholars, 
and  then  fell  into  a  moody  jog.  He 
crossed  a  small  "  branch "  two  or 
three  times,  because  of  a  prevailing 
juvenile  superstition  that  to  cross 
water  baffled  pursuit.  Half  an  hour 
later  he  was  disappearing  behind  the 
Douglas  mansion  on  the  summit  of 
Cardiff  Hill,  and  the  school-house 
was  hardly  distinguishable  away  off 
in  the  valley  behind  him.  He  entered 
a  dense  wood,  picked  his  pathless 
way  to  the  centre  of  it,  and  sat  down 
on  a  mossy  sp'ot  under  a  spreading 
oak.  There  was  not  even  a  zephyr 
the  dead  noonday  heat  had  even  stilled  the  songs  of  the  birds ;  nature 
trance  that  was  broken  by  no  sound  but  the  occasional  far-off 
79 


8o  TOM  SAWYER. 


hammering  of  a  woodpecker,  and  this  seemed  to  render  the  pervading  silence  and 
sense  of  loneliness  the  more  profound.  The  boy's  soul  was  steeped  in  melan- 
choly ;  his  feelings  were  in  happy  accord  with  his  surroundings.  He  sat  long 
with  his  elbows  on  his  knees  and  his  chin  in  his  hands,  meditating.  It  seemed  to- 
him  that  life  was  but  a  trouble,  at  best,  and  he  more  than  half  envied  Jimmy 
Hodges,  so  lately  released ;  it  must  be  very  peaceful,  he  thought,  to  lie  and  slumber 
and  dream  forever  and  ever,  with  the  wind  whispering  through  the  trees  and 
caressing  the  grass  and  the  flowers  over  the  grave,  and  nothing  to  bother  and 
grieve  about,  ever  any  more.  If  he  only  had  a  clean  Sunday-school  record  he 
could  be  willing  to  go,  and  be  done  with  it  all.  Now  as  to  this  girl.  What  had  he 
done  ?  Nothing.  He  had  meant  the  best  in  the  world,  and  been  treated  like  a 
dog — like  a  very  dog.  She  would  be  sorry  some  day — maybe  when  it  was  too 
late.  Ah,  if  he  could  only  die  temporarily  ! 

But  the  elastic  heart  of  youth  cannot  be  compressed  into  one  constrained  shape 
long  at  a  time.  Tom  presently  began  to  drift  insensibly  back  into  the  concerns 
of  this  life  again.  What  if  he  turned  his  back,  now,  and  disappeared  mysteriously  ? 
What  if  he  went  away — ever  so  far  away,  into  unknown  countries  beyond  the  seas 
— and  never  come  back  any  more !  •  How  would  she  feel  then !  The  idea  of 
being  a  clown  recurred  to  him  now,  only  to  fill  him  with  disgust.  For  fri^lity 
and  jokes  and  spotted  tights  were  an  offense,  when  they  intruded  themselves 
upon  a  spirit  that  was  exalted  into  the  vague  august  realm  of  the  romantic.  No, 
he  would  be  a  soldier,  and  return  after  long  years,  all  war-worn  and  illustrious. 
No — better  still,  he  would  join  the  Indians,  and  hunt  buffaloes  and  go  on  the  war- 
path in  the  mountain  ranges  and  the  trackless  great  plains  of  the  Far  West,  and 
away  in  the  future  come  back  a  great  chief,  bristling  with  feathers,  hideous  with 
paint,  and  prance  into  Sunday-school,  some  drowsy  summer  morning,  with  a 
blood-curdling  war-whoop,  and  sear  the  eye-balls  of  all  his  companions  with 
unappeasable  envy.  But  no,  there  was  something  gaudier  even  than  this.  He 
would  be  a  pirate!  That  was  it!  Now  his  future  lay  plain  before  him,  and 
glowing  with  unimaginable  splendor.  How  his  name  would  fill  the  world,  and 
make  people  shudder!  How  gloriously  he  would  go  plowing  the  dancing  seas,  in 
his  long,  low,  black-hulled  racer,  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Storm,"  with  his  grisly  flag 


TOM  DECIDES  ON  HIS  COURSE. 


Si 


flying  at  the  fore  !  And  at  the  zenith  of  his 
fame,  how  he  would  suddenly  appear  at  the 
old  village  and  stalk  into  church,  brown  and 
weather-beaten,  in  his  black  velvet  doublet 
and  trunks,  his  great  jack-boots,  his  crimson 
sash,  his  belt  bristling  with  horse-pistols,  his 
crime-rusted  cutlass  at  his  side,  his  slouch 
hat  with  waving  plumes,  his  black  flag  un- 
furled, with  the  skull  and  cross-bones  on  it, 
and  hear  with  swelling  ecstasy  the  whisper- 
ings, "It's  Tom  Sawyer  the  Pirate!  —  the 
Black  Avenger  of  the  Spanish  Main  !  " 

Yes,  it  was  settled  ;  his  career  was  deter- 
mined. He  would  run  away  from  home  and 
enter  upon  it.  He  would  start  the  very  next 
morning.  Therefore  he  must  now  begin  to 
get  ready.  He  would  collect  his  resources 
together.  He  went  to  a  rotten  log  near  af 
hand  and  began  to  dig  under  one  end  of  it 
with  his  Barlow  knife.  He  soon  struck 
wood  that  sounded  hollow.  He  put  his 
hand  there  and  uttered  this  incantation 
impressively : 

''What  hasn't  come  here,  come!  What's 
here,  stay  here !  " 

Then  he  scraped  away  the  dirt,  and  ex- 
posed a  pine  shingle.  He  took  it  up  and 
disclosed  a  shapely  little  treasure-house 
whose  bottom  and  sides  were  of  shingles. 
In  it  lay  a  marble.  Tom's  astonishment 
was  boundless!  He  scratched  his  head 
with  a  perplexed  air,  and  said : 
6 


TOil    MEDITATES. 


82  TOM  SA  WYER. 


"  Well,  that  beats  anything  ?  " 

Then  he  tossed  the  marble  away  pettishly,  and  stood  cogitating.  The  truth 
was,  that  a  superstition  of  his  had  failed,  here,  which  he  and  all  his  comrades  had 
always  looked  upon  as  infallible.  If  you  buried  a  marble  with  certain  necessary 
incantations,  and  left  it  alone  a  fortnight,  and  then  opened  the  place  with  the 
incantation  he  had  just  used,  you  would  find  that  all  the  marbles  you  had  ever 
lost  had  gathered  themselves  together  there,  meantime,  no  matter  how  widely 
they  had  been  separated.  But  now,  this  thing  had  actually  and  unquestionably 
failed.  Tom's  whole  structure  of  faith  was  shaken  to  its  foundations.  He  had 
many  a  time  heard  of  this  thing  succeeding,  but  never  of  its  failing  before.  It  did 
not  occur  to  him  that  he  had  tried  it  several  times  before,  himself,  but  could 
never  find  the  hiding  places  afterwards.  He  puzzled  over  the  matter  some  time, 
and  finally  decided  that  some  witch  had  interfered  and  broken  the  charm.  He 
thought  he  would  satisfy  himself  on  that  point ;  so  he  searched  around  till  he 
found  a  small  sandy  spot  with  a  little  funnel-shaped  depression  in  it.  He  laid 
himself  down  and  put  his  mouth  close  to  this  depression  and  called  : 

"  Doodle-bug,  doodle-bug,  tell  me  what  I  want  to  know !  Doodle-bug,  doodle- 
bug tell  me  what  I  want  to  know  I  " 

The  sand  began  to  work,  and  presently  a  small  black  bug  appeared  for  a  second 
and  then  darted  under  again  in  a  fright. 

"  He  dasn't  tell !     So  it  was  a  witch  that  done  it.     I  just  knowed  it." 

He  well  knew  the  futility  of  trying  to  contend  against  witches,  so  he  gave  up 
discouraged.  But  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  might  as  well  have  the  marble  he  had 
just  thrown  away,  and  therefore  he  went  and  made  a  patient  search  for  it.  But 
he  could  not  find  it.  Now  he  went  back  to  his  treasure-house  and  carefully 
placed  himself  just  as  he  had  been  standing  when  he  tossed  the  marble  away; 
then  he  took  another  marble  from  his  pocket  and  tossed  it  in  the  same  way,  saying  : 

"  Brother  go  find  your  brother !  " 

He  watched  where  it  stopped,  and  went  there  and  looked.  But  it  must  have 
fallen  short  or  gone  too  far;  so  he  tried  twice  more.  The  last  repetition  was  suc- 
cessful. The  two  marbles  lay  within  a  foot  of  each  other. 

Just  here  the  blast  of  a  toy  tin  trumpet  came  faintly  down  the  green  aisles  of  the 


OLD  SCENES  RE-EXACTED. 


forest.  Tom  flung  off  his  jacket  and  trousers,  turned  a  suspender  into  a  belt, 
raked  away  some  brush  behind  the  rotten  log,  disclosing  a  rude  bow  and  arrow,  a 
lath  sword  and  a  tin  trumpet,  and  in  a  moment  had  seized  these  things  and 
bounded  away,  bare  legged,  with  fluttering  shirt.  He  presently  halted  under  a 
great  elm,  blew  an  answering  blast,  and  then  began  to  tip-toe  and  look  warily  out, 
this  way  and  that.  He  said  cautiously — to  an  imaginary  company : 
"  Hold,  my  merry  men  !  Keep  hid  till  I  blow." 

Now  appeared  Joe  Harper,  as  airily  clad  and  elaborately  armed  as  Tom.     Tom 
called : 

"  Hold  !     Who  comes  here  into  Sherwood  Forest  without  my  pass  ?  " 

"  Guy  of  Guisborne  wants  no  man's  pass. 
Who  art  thou  that— that —  " 

"  Dares  to  hold  such  language,"  said  Tom, 
prompting — for  they  talked  "  by  the  book," 
from  memory. 

"Who  art  thou  that  dares   to  hold  such 
language  ?  " 

"  I,  indeed !  I  am  Robin  Hood,  as  thy 
caitiff  carcase  soon  shall  know." 

"  Then  art  thou  indeed  that  famous  out- 
law ?  Right  gladly  will  I  dispute  with  thee 
the  passes  of  the  merry  wood.  Have  at  thee  !" 
They  took  their  lath  swords,  dumped  their 
other  traps  on  the  ground,  struck  a  fencing 
attitude,  foot  to  foot,  and  began  a  grave, 
careful  combat,  "two  up  and  two  down." 
Presently  Tom  said : 

"  Now  if  you've  got  the  hang,  go  it  lively !" 
So    they   "went   it   lively,"   panting    and 
perspiring  with  the  work.     By  and  by  Tom  shouted : 
"  Fall !  fall !     Why  don't  you  fall  ?  " 
"  I  shan't !     Why  don't  you  fall  yourself?     You're  getting  the  worst  of  it." 


ROBIN    HOOD    AND    HIS    FOE. 


TOM  SA  WYER 


"  Why  that  ain't  anything.  /  can't  fall ;  that  ain't  the  way  it  is  in  the  book. 
The  book  says  '  Then  with  one  back-handed  stroke  he  slew  poor  Guy  of  Guis- 
borne.'  You're  to  turn  around  and  let  me  hit  you  in  the  back." 

There  was  no  getting  around  the  authorities,  so  Joe  turned,  received  the  whack 
and  fell. 

"  Now,"  said  Joe,  getting  up,  "  You  got  to  let  me  kill  you.     That's  fair." 
"  Why  I  can't  do  that,  it  ain't  in  the  book." 
"Well  it's  blamed  mean, — that's  all." 

"  Well,  say,  Joe,  you  can  be  Friar  Tuck  or  Much  the  miller's  son  and  lam  me 

with  a  quarter-staff;  or  I'll  be  the  Sheriff  of 
Nottingham  and  you  be  Robin  Hood  a  little 
while  and  kill  me." 

This  was  satisfactory,  and  so  these  ad- 
ventures were  carried  out.  Then  Tom 
became  Robin  Hood  again,  and  was  al- 
lowed by  the  treacherous  nun  to  bleed  his 
strength  away  through  his  neglected  wound. 
And  at  last  Joe,  representing  a  whole  tribe 
of  weeping  outlaws,  dragged  him  sadly 
forth,  gave  his  bow  into  his  feeble  hands, 
and  Tom  said,  ""Where  this  arrow  falls, 
there  bury  poor  Robin  Hood  under  the 
greenwood  tree."  Then  he  shot  the  arrow 
and  fell  back  and  would  have  died  but  he 
lit  on  a  nettle  and  sprang  up  too  gaily  for  a 
corpse. 

The  boys  dressed  themselves,  hid  their 
accoutrements,  and  went  off  grieving  that  there  were  no  outlaws  any  more,  and 
wondering  what  modern  civilization  could  claim  to  have  done  to  compensate  for 
their  loss.  They  said  they  would  rather  be  outlaws  a  year  in  Sherwood  Forest 
than  President  of  the  United  States  forever. 


DEATH    OF   ROBIN   HOOD. 


half  past  nine,  that  night,  Tom 
and  Sid  were  sent  to  bed,  as  usual. 
They  said  their  prayers,  and  Sid  was 
soon  asleep.  Tom  lay  awake  and 
waited,  in  restless  impatience.  When 
it  seemed  to  him  that  it  must  be  nearly 
daylight,  he  heard  the  clock  strike  ten  ! 
This  was  despair.  He  would  have 
tossed  and  fidgeted,  as  his  nerves  de- 
manded, but  he  was  afraid  he  might 
wake  Sid.  So  he  lay  still,  and  stared 
up  into  the  dark.  Everything  was  dis- 
mally still.  By  and  by,  out  of  the  still- 
ness, little,  scarcely  preceptible  noises 
began  to  emphasize  themselves.  The 
ticking  of  the  clock  began  to  bring 
itself  into  notice.  Old  beams  began  to 

crack  mysteriously.     The  stairs  creaked  faintly.    Evidently  spirits  were  abroad. 

A  measured,  muffled  snore  issued  from  Aunt  Polly's  chamber.  And  now  the 

85 


86 


TOM  SAWYER. 


tiresome  chirping  of  a  cricket  that  no  human  ingenuity  could  locate,  began.  Next 
the  ghastly  ticking  of  a  death-watch  in  the  wall  at  the  bed's  head  made  Tom 
shudder — it  meant  that  somebody's  days  were  numbered.  Then  the  howl  of  a  far- 
off  dog  rose  on  the  night  air,  and  was  answered  by  a  fainter  howl  from  a  remoter 
distance.  Tom  was  in  an  agony.  At  last  he  was-  satisfied  that  time  had  ceased 
and  eternity  begun ;  he  began  to  doze,  in  spite  of  himself;  the  clock  chimed  eleven 
but  he  did  not  hear  it.  And  then  there  came  mingling  with  his  half-formed  dreams, 

a  most  melancholy  caterwauling.  The 
raising  of  a  neighboring  window  dis- 
turbed him.  A  cry  of  "  Scat !  you  devil !" 
and  the  crash  of  an  empty  bottle  against 
the  back  of  his  aunt's  woodshed  brought 
him  wide  awake,  and  a  single  minute 
later  he  was  dressed  and  out  of  the 
window  and  creeping  along  the  roof  of 
the  "  ell  "  on  all  fours.  He  "  meow'd  'r 
with  caution  once  or  twice,  as  he  went ; 
then  jumped  to  the"  roof  of  the  wood- 
shed and  thence  to  the  ground.  Huckle- 
berry Finn  was  there,  with  his  dead  cat. 
The  boys  moved  off  and  disappeared  in 
the  gloom.  At  the  end  of  half  an  hour 
they  were  wading  through  the  tall  grass 
of  the  graveyard. 

It  was  a  graveyard  of  the  old-fashioned 
1ESS-  western  kind.     It  was  on  a  hill,  about  a 

mile  and  a  half  from  the  village.  It  had  a  crazy  board  fence  around  it,  wffich 
leaned  inward  in  places,  and  outward  the  rest  of  the  time,  but  stood  upright 
nowhere.  Grass  and  weeds  grew  rank  over  the  whole  cemetery.  All  the  old  graves 
were  sunken  -in,  there  was  not  a  tombstone  on  the  place ;  round-topped,  worm- 
eaten  boards  staggered  over  the  graves,  leaning  for  support  and  finding  none. 
"Sacred  to  the  memory  of"  So-and-So  had  been  painted  on  them  once,  but  it 


A  SOLEMN  SITUA  TIOAr  87 


could  no  longer  have  been  read,  on  the  most  of  them,  now,  even  if  there  had 
been  light. 

•  A  faint  wind  moaned  through  the  trees,  and  Tom  feared  it  might  be  the  spirits 
of  the  dead,  complaining  at  being  disturbed.  The  boys  talked  little,  and  only 
under  their  breath,  for  the  time  and  the  place  and  the  pervading  solemnity  and 
silence  oppressed  their  spirits.  They  found  the  sharp  new  heap  they  were 
seeking,  and  ensconsced  themselves  within  the  protection  of  three  great  elms 
that  grew  in  a  bunch  within  a  few  feet  of  the  grave. 

Then  they  waited  in  silence  for  what  seemed  a  long  time.  The  hooting  of  a 
distant  owl  was  all  the  sound  that  troubled  the  dead  stillness.  Tom's  reflections 
grew  oppressive.  He  must  force  some  talk.  So  he  said  in  a  whisper : 

"Hucky,  do  you  believe  the  dead  people  like  it  for  us  to  be  here?  " 

Huckleberry  whispered : 

"  I  wisht  I  knowed.     It's  awful  solemn  like,  ain't  it?  " 

"  I  bet  it  is." 

There  was  a  considerable  pause,  while  the  boys  canvassed  this  matter  inwardly. 
Then  Tom  whispered : 

"Say,  Hucky — do  you  reckon  Hoss  Williams  hears  us  talking? " 

"  O'  course  he  does.     Least  his  sperrit  does." 

Tom,  after  a  pause : 

"  I  wish  I'd  said  Mister  Williams.  But  I  never  meant  any  harm.  Everybody 
calls  him  Hoss." 

"  A  body  can't  be  too  partic'lar  how  they  talk  'bout  these-yer  dead  people, 
Tom." 

This  was  a  damper,  and  conversation  died  again.  Presently  Tom  seized 
his  comrade's  arm  and  said : 

"  Sh ! " 

"  What  is  it,  Tom? "     And  the  two  clung  together  with  beating  hearts. 

"  Sh !     There  'tis  again  !     Didn't  you  hear  it  ? " 

ti  j " 

"  There  !     Now  you  hear  it." 

"  Lord,  Tom  they're  coming !     They're  coming,  sure.     What'll  we  do? " 


83 


TOM  SAWYER. 


"  I  dono.     Think  they'll  see  us  ?  " 

"  O,  Tom,  they  can  see  in  the  dark,  same  as  cats.     I  wisht  I  hadn't  come." 
"  O,  don't  be  afeard.     /  don't  believe  they'll  bother  us.     We  ain't  doing  any 
harm.     If  we  keep  perfectly  still,  maybe  they  won't  notice  us  at  all." 
"I'll  try  to,  Tom,  but  Lord  I'm  all  of  a  shiver." 
"  Listen !  " 

The  boys  bent  their  heads  together  and  scarcely  breathed.  A  muffled  sound 
of  voices  floated  up  from  the  far  end  of  the  graveyard. 

"  Look !  See  there  !  "  whispered  Tom. 
"  What  is  it  ? " 

"It's  devil-fire.  O,  Tom,  this  is  awful." 
Some  vague  figures  approached  through 
the  gloom,  swinging  an  old-fashioned  tin 
lantern  that  freckled  the  ground  with  innu- 
merable little  spangles  of  light.  Presently 
Huckleberry  whispered  with  a  shudder : 

"  It's  the  devils  sure  enough.  Three  of 
'em !  Lordy,  Tom,  we're  goners !  Can 
you  pray  ?  " 

"  I'll  try,  but  don't  you  be  afeard.     They 
ain't  going  to  hurt  us.     Now   I   lay  me 
down  to  sleep,  I — " 
«Sh!" 

"What  is  it,  Huck?"    . 
TOM'S  EFFORT  AT  PRATER.  "  They're  humans !    One   of 'em  is,  any- 

way.    One  of  'em's  old  Muff  Potter's  voice." 
"  No — tain't  so,  is  it  ? " 

"  I  bet  I  know  it.  Don't  you  stir  nor  budge.  He  ain't  sharp  enough  to  notice 
us.  Drunk,  same  as  usual,  likely — blamed  old  rip !  " 

"  All  right,  I'll  keep  still.  Now  they're  stuck.  Can't  find  it.  Here  they 
come  again.  Now  they're  hot.  Cold  again.  Hot  again.  Red  hot !  They're 
p'inted  right,  this  time.  Say  Huck,  I  know  another  o'  them  voices;  it's  Injun 
Joe." 


GRAVE  SUBJECTS  INTRODUCED.  89 

"That's  so — that  murderin'  half-breed!  I'd  druther  they  was  devils  a  dern 
sight.  What  kin  they  be  up  to  ? " 

The  whispers  died  wholly  out,  now,  for  the  three  men  had  reached  the 
grave  and  stood  within  a  few  feet  of  the  boys'  hiding-place." 

"  Here  it  is,"  said  the  third  voice ;  and  the  owner  of  it  held  the  lantern  up 
and  revealed  the  face  of  young  Dr.  Robinson. 

Potter  and  Injun  Joe  were  carrying  a  handbarrow  with  a  rope  and  a  couple 
of  shovels  on  it.  They  cast  down  their  load  and  began  to  open  the  grave.  The 
doctor  put  the  lantern  at  the  head  of  the  grave  and  came  and  sat  down  with  his 
back  against  one  of  the  elm  trees.  He  was  so  close  the  boys  could  have  touched 
him. 

"Hurry,  men!  "  he  said  in  a  low  voice;  "the  moon  might  come  out  at  any 
moment." 

They  growled  a  response  and  went  on  digging.  For  some  time  there  was 
no  noise  but  the  grating  sound  of  the  spades  discharging  their  freight  of 
mould  and  gravel.  It  was  very  monotonous.  Finally  a  spade  struck  upon  the 
coffin  with  a  dull  woody  accent,  and  within  another  minute  or  two  the  men  had 
hoisted  it  out  on  the  ground.  They  pried  off  the  lid  with  their  shovels,  got 
out  the  body  and  dumped  it  rudely  on  the  ground.  The  moon  drifted  from 
behind  the  clouds  and  exposed  the  pallid  face.  The  barrow  was  got  ready  and 
the  corpse  placed  on  it,  covered  with  a  blanket,  and  bound  to  its  place  with 
the  rope.  Potter  took  out  a  large  spring-knife  and  cut  off  the  dangling  end 
of.  the  rope  and  then  said  : 

"  Now  the  cussed  thing's  ready,  Sawbones,  and  you'll  just  out  with  another 
five,  or  here  she  stays." 

"  That's  the  talk  !  "  said  Injun  Joe. 

"  Look  here,  what  does  this  mean  ?"  said  the  doctor.  "  You  required  your 
pay  in  advance,  and  I've  paid  you." 

"Yes,  and  you  done  more  than  that,"  said  Injun  Joe,  approaching  the  doctor, 
who  was  now  standing.  "Five  years  ago  you  drove  me  away  from  your 
father's  kitchen  one  night,  when  I  come  to  ask  for  something  to  eat,  and  you 
said  I  warn't  there  for  any  good  ;  and  when  I  swore  I'd  get  even  with  you  if  it 


TOM  SAWYER. 


took  a  hundred  years,  your  father  had  me  jailed  for  a  vagrant.  Did  you  think 
I'd  forget?  The  Injun  blood  ain't  in  me  for  nothing.  And  now  I've  got  you> 
and  you  got  to  settle,  you  know  !  " 

He  was  threatening  the  doctor,  with  his  fist  in  his  face,  by  this  time.  The 
doctor  struck  out  suddenly  and  stretched  the  ruffian  on  the  ground.  Potter 
dropped  his  knife,  and  exclaimed : 

"  Here,  now,  don't  you  hit  my  pard !  "  and  the  next  moment  he  had  grappled 
with  the  doctor  arid  the  two  were  struggling  with  might  and  main,  trampling 
the  grass  and  tearing  the  ground  with  their  heels.  Injun  Joe  sprang  to  his 
feet,  his  eyes  flaming  with  passion,  snatched  up  Potter's  knife,  and  went  creep- 
ing, catlike  and  stooping,  round  and  round  about  the  combatants,  seeking  an 
opportunity.  All  at  once  the  doctor  flung  himself  free,  seized  the  heavy  head 
board  of  Williams'  grave  and  felled  Potter  to  the  earth  with  it — and  in  the 
same  instant  the  half-breed  saw  his  chance  and  drove  the  knife  to  the  hilt  in 
the  young  man's  breast.  He  reeled  and  fell  partly  upon  Potter,  flooding  him 
with  his  blood,  and  in  the  same  moment  the  clouds  blotted  out  the  dreadful 
spectacle  and  the  two  frightened  boys  went  speeding  away  in  the  dark. 

Presently,  when  the  moon  emerged  again,  Injun  Joe  was  standing  over  the 
two  forms,  contemplating  them.  The  doctor  murmured  inarticulately,  gave  a 
long  gasp  or  two  and  was  still.  The  half-breed  muttered : 

"That  score  is  settled — damn  you." 

Then  he  robbed  the  body.  After  which  he  put  the  fatal  knife  in  Potter's 
open  right  hand,  and  sat  down  on  the  dismantled  coffin.  Three — four — five 
minutes  passed,  and  then  Potter  began  to  stir  and  moan.  His  hand  closed 
upon  the  knife;  he  raised  it,  glanced  at  it,  and  let  it  fall,  with  a  shudder.  Then 
he  sat  up,  pushing  the  body  from  him,  and  gazed  at  it,  and  then  around  him> 
confusedly.  His  eyes  met  Joe's. 

"Lord,  how  is  this,  Joe?"  he  said. 

" It's  a  dirty  business,"  said  Joe,  without  moving.    "What  did  you  do  it  for?" 

"  I !     I  never  done  it !  " 

"  Look  here!     That  kind  of  talk  won't  wash." 

Potter  trembled  and  grew  white. 


INJUN  JOE  EXPLAINS. 


"I  thought  I'd  got  sober.  I'd  no  business  to  drink  to-night.  But  it's  in  my 
head  yet — worse'n  when  we  started  hdre.  I'm  all  in  a  muddle ;  can't  recollect 
anything  of  it  hardly.  Tell  me,  Joe — honest,  now,  old  feller — did  I  do  it?  Joe, 
I  never  meant  to — 'pon  my  soul  and  honor  I  never  meant  to,  Joe.  Tell  me  how 
it  was  Joe.  O,  it's  awful — and  him  so  young  and  promising." 

"  Why  you  two  was  scuffling,  and  he  fetched  .you  one  with  the  head-board 
and  you  fell  flat ;  and  then  up  you  come,  all  reeling  and  staggering,  like,  and 
snatched  the  knife  and  jammed  it  into  him,  just  as  he  fetched  you  another  awful 
clip — and  here  you've  laid,  as  dead  as  a  wedge  till  now." 

"  O,  I  didn't  know  what  I  was  a  doing.     I  wish  I  may  die  this  minute  if  I 


MUFF    POTTER    OUTWITTED. 


did.  It  was  all  on  account  of  the  whisky ;  and  the  excitement,  I  reckon.  I 
never  used  a  weepon  in  my  life  before,  Joe.  I've  fought,  but  never  with  weep- 
ons.  They'll  all  say  that.  Joe,  don't  tell !  Say  you  won't  tell,  Joe — that's  a 
good  feller.  I  always  liked  you  Joe,  and  stood  up  for  you,  too.  Don't  you 


TOM  SAWYER. 


remember  ?  You  won't  tell,  will  you  Joe  ?"  And  the  poor  creature  dropped  on 
his  knees  before  the  stolid  murderer,  and  clasped  his  appealing  hands. 

"No,  you've  always  been  fair  and  square  with  me,  Muff  Potter,  and  I  won't 
go  back  on  you. — There,  now,  that's  as  fair  as  a  man  can  say." 

"  O,  Joe,  you're  an  angel.  I'll  bless  you  for  this  the  longest  day  I  live." 
And  Potter  began  to  cry.  • 

"Come,  now,  that's  enough  of  that.  This  ain't  any  time  for  blubbering. 
You  be  off  yonder  way  and  I'll  go  thiSi  Move,  now,  and  don't  leave  any  tracks 
behind  you." 

Potter  started  on  a  trot  that  quickly  increased  to  a  run.  The  half-breed  stood 
looking  after  him.  He  muttered  : 

"  If  he's  as  much  stunned  with  the  lick  and  fuddled  with  the  rum  as  he  had 
the  look  of  being,  he  won't  think  of  the  knife  till  he's  gone  so  far  he'll  be 
afraid  to  come  back  after  it  to  such  a  place  by  himself — chicken-heart !  " 

Two  or  three  minutes  later  the  murdered  man,  the  blanketed  corpse,  the  lid- 
less  coffin  and  the  open  grave  were  under  no  inspection  but  the  moon's.  The 
stillness  was  complete  again,  too. 


^^r-sjx.  - 

two  boys  flew  on  and  on, 
toward  the  village,  speech- 
less with  horror.  They 
glanced  backward  over  their  shoul- 
ders from  time  to  time,  apprehen- 
sively, as  if  they  feared  they  might  be 
followed.  Every  stump  that  started 
up  in  their  path  seemed  a  man  and  an 
enemy,  and  made  them  catch  their 
breath ;  and  as  they  sped  by  some  out- 
lying cottages  that  lay  near  the  village, 
the  barking  of  the  aroused  watch-dogs 
seemed  to  give  wings  to  their  feet. 

"If  we  can  only  get  to  the  old 
tannery,  before  we  break  down ! " 
whispered  Tom,  in  short  catches  be- 
tween breaths,  "  I  can't  stand  it  much 
longer." 

Huckleberry's  hard  pantings  were  his  only  reply,  and  the  boys  fixed  their 
eyes  on  the  goal  of  their  hopes  and  bent  to  their  work  to  win  it.  They  gained 
steadily  on  it,  and  at  last,  breast  to  breast  they  burst  through  the  open  door 

93 


94  TOM  SA  W  YER. 


and  fell  grateful  and  exhausted  in  the  sheltering  shadows  beyond.  By  and  by 
their  pulses  slowed  down,  and  Tom  whispered  : 

"  Huckleberry,  what  do  you,  reckon  '11  come  of  this?"  * 

"If  Dr.  Robinson  dies,  I  reckon  hanging  '11  come  of  it." 

"  Do  you  though  ?  " 

"Why  I  know  it,  Tom." 

Tom  thought  a  while,  then  he  said : 

"Who'll  tell?     We?" 

"What  are  you  talking  about?  S'pose  something  happened  and  Injun  Joe 
didn't  hang?  Why  he'd  kill  us  some  time  or  other,  just  as  dead  sure  as  we're  a 
laying  here." 

"  That's  just  what  I  was  thinking  to  myself,  Huck." 

"If  anybody  tells,  let  Muff  Potter  do  it,  if  he's  fool  enough.  He's  generally 
drunk  enough." 

Tom  said  nothing — went  on  thinking.     Presently  he  whispered : 

"  Huck,  Muff  Potter  don't  know  it.     How  can  he  tell  ?  " 

"What's  the  reason  he  don't  know  it  ?  " 

"  Because  he'djust  got  that  whack  when  Injun  Joe  done  it.  D'  you  reckon  he 
could  see  anything?  D'  you  reckon  he  knowed  anything?  " 

"  By  hokey,  that's  so  Tom  !  " 

"And  besides,  look-a-here — maybe  that  whack  done  for  him  \  " 

"No,  'taint  likely  Tom.  He  had  liquor  in  him;  I  could  see  that;  and  besides, 
he  always  has.  Well  when  pap's  full,  you  might  take  and  belt  him  over  the  head 
with  a  church  and  you  couldn't  phase  him.  He  says  so,  his  own  self.  So  it's  the 
same  with  Muff  Potter,  of  course.  But  if  a  man  was  dead  sober,  I  reckon  maybe 
that  whack  might  fetch  him  ;  I  dono." 

After  another  reflective  silence,  Tom  said  : 

"  Hucky,  you  sure  you  can  keep  mum  ?  " 

"  Tom,  we  got  to  keep  mum.  You  know  that.  That  Injun  devil  would'nt  make 
any  more  of  drownding  us  than  a  couple  of  cats,  if  we  was  to  squeak  'bout  this 
and  they  didn't  hang  him.  Now  look-a-here,  Tom,  less  take  and  swear  to  one 
another — that's  what  we  got  to  do — swear  to  keep  mum." 


THE  SOLEMN  OA  TH. 


95 


"I'm  agreed.  It's  the  best  thing.  Would  you  just  hold  hands  and  swear  that 
we—" 

"  O,  no,  that  wouldn't  do  for  this.  That's  good  enough  for  little  rubbishy  com- 
mon things — specially  with  gals,  cuz  they  go  back  on  you  anyway,  and  blab  if  they 
get  in  a  huff — but  there  orter  be  writing  'bout  a  big  thing  like  this.  And  blood." 

Tom's  whole  being  applauded  this  idea.  It  was  deep,  and  dark,  and  awful ;  the 
hour,  the  circumstances,  the  surroundings,  were  in  keeping  with  it.  He  picked 
up  a  clean  pine  shingle  that  lay  in  the  moonlight,  took  a  little  fragment  of  "  red 
keel  "  out  of  his  pocket,  got  the  moon  on  his  work,  and  painfully  scrawled  these 
lines,  emphasizing  each  slow  down-stroke  by  clamping  his  tongue  between  his 
teeth,  and  letting  up  the  pressure  on  the  up-strokes  : 


96  TOM  SAWYER. 


Huckleberry  was  filled  with  admiration  of  Tom's  facility  in  writing,  and  the 
sublimity  of  his  language.  He  at  once  took  a  pin  from  his  lappel  and  was  going. 
to  prick  his  flesh,  but  Tom  said : 

"  Hold  on  !     Don't  do  that.     A  pin's  brass.    It  might  have  verdigrease  on  it." 

"  What's  verdigrease  ?  " 

"It's  p'ison.     That's  what  it  is.     You  just  swaller  some  of  it  once — you'll  see." 

So  Tom  unwound  the  thread  from  one  of  his  needles,  and  each  boy  pricked  the 
ball  of  his  thumb  and  squeezed  out  a  drop  of  blood.  In  time,  after  many  squeezes, 
Tom  managed  to  sign  his  initials,  using  the  ball  of  his  little  finger  for  a  pen. 
Then  he  showed  Huckleberry  how  to  make  an  H  and  an  F,  and  the  oath  was 
complete.  They  buried  the  shingle  close  to  the  wall,  with  some  dismal  ceremo- 
nies and  incantations,  and  the  fetters  that  bound  their  tongues  were  considered 
to  be  locked  and  the  key  thrown  away. 

A  figure  crept  stealthily  through  a  break  in  the  other  end  of  the  ruined  build- 
ing, now,  but  they  did  not  notice  it. 

"  Tom,"  whispered  Huckleberry,  "  does  this  keep  us  from  ever  telling — always  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it  does.  It  don't  make  any  difference  what  happens,  we  got  to  keep 
mum.  We'd  drop  down  dead — don't  you  know  that?  " 

"  Yes,  I  reckon  that's  so." 

They  continued  to  whisper  for  some  little  time.  Presently  a  dog  set  up  a  long, 
lugubrious  howl  just  outside — within  ten  feet  of  them.  The  boys  clasped  each 
other  suddenly,  in  an  agony  of  fright. 

"  Which  of  us  does  he  mean  ?  "  gasped  Huckleberry. 

"  I  dono — peep  through  the  crack.     Quick !  " 

"No,jw»,  Tom!" 

"  I  can't — I  can't  do  it,  Huck !  " 

"  Please,  Tom.     There  'tis  again  !  " 

"O,  lordy,  I'm  thankful !"  whispered  Tom.  "I  know  his  voice.  It's  Bull 
Harbison."  * 


*  If  Mr.  Harbison  had  owned  a  slave  named  Bull,  Tom  would  have  spoken  of  him  as  "  Harbison's 
Bull,"  but  a  son  or  a  dog  of  that  name  was  "  Bull  Harbison." 


TERROR  BRINGS  REPENTANCE.  97 

"  O,  that's  good — I  tell  you,  Tom,  I  was  most  scared  to  death ;  I'd  a  bet  any- 
thing it  was  a  stray  dog." 

The  dog  howled  again.     The  boys'  hearts  sank  once  more. 

"  O,  my  !  that  ain't  no  Bull  Harbison  !  "  whispered  Huckleberry,    "  Do,  Tom  i  " 

Tom,  quaking  with  fear,  yielded,  and  put  his  eye  to  the  crack.  His  whisper 
was  hardly  audible  when  he  said : 

"  O,  Huek,  IT'S  A  STRAY  DOG  !  " 

"  Quick,  Tom,  quick  !     Who  does  he  mean  ?  " 

"  Huck,  he  must  mean  us  both — we're  right  together." 

"  O,  Tom,  I  reckon  we're  goners.  I  reckon  there  ain't  no  mistake  'bout  where 
/'//  go  to.  I  been  so  wicked." 

"  Dad  fetch  it !  This  comes  of  playing  hookey  and  doing  everything  a  feller's 
told  not  to  do.  I  might  a  been  good,  like  Sid,  if  I'd  a  tried — but  no,  I  wouldn't, 
of  course.  But  if  ever  I  get  off  this  time,  I  lay  I'll  just  waller  in  Sunday-schools !  " 
And  Tom  began  to  snuffle  a  little. 

"  You  bad  !  "  and  Huckleberry  began  to  snuffle  too.  "  Consound  it,  Tom  Sawyer, 
you're  just  old  pie,  'longside  o'what/am.  O,  lordy,  lordy,  lordy,  I  wisht  I  only- 
had  half  your  chance." 

Tom  choked  off  and  whispered  : 

"  Look,  Hucky,  look !     He's  got  his  back  to  us !  " 

Hucky  looked,  with  joy  in  his  heart. 

"  Well  he  has,  by  jingoes  !     Did  he  before  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  did.  But  I,  like  a  fool,  never  thought.  O,  this  is  bully,  you  know. 
Now  who  can  he  mean  ?  " 

The  howling  stopped.     Tom  pricked  up  his  ears. 

"  Sh  !     What's  that  ?  "  he  whispered. 

"  Sounds  like — like  hogs  grunting.     No — it's  somebody  snoring,  Tom." 

"  That  is  it  ?     Where  'bouts  is  it,  Huck  ?  " 

"  I  bleeve  it's  down  at  'tother  end.  Sounds  so,  anyway.  Pap  used  to  sleep 
there,  sometimes,  'long  with  the  hogs,  but  laws  bless  you,  he  just  lifts  things  when 
he  snores.  Besides,  I  reckon  he  ain't  ever  coming  back  to  this  town  any  more." 

The  spirit  of  adventure  rose  in  the  boys'  souls  once  more. 
7 


TOM  SA  IV  YER. 


"  Hucky,  do  you  das't  to  go  if  I  lead  ?  " 

"  I  don't  like  to,  much.     Tom,  s'pose  it's  Injun  Joe  !  " 

Tom  quailed.  But  presently  the  temptation  rose  up  strong  again  and  the  boys 
agreed  to  try,  with  the  understanding  that  they  would  take  to  their  heels  if  the 
snoring  stopped.  So  they  went  tip-toeing  stealthily  down,  the  one  behind  the 
other.  When  they  had  got  to  within  five  steps  of  the  snorer,  Tom  stepped  on  a 
stick,  and  it  broke  with  a  sharp  snap.  The  man  moaned,  writhed  a  little,  and  his 


DISTURBING   MTTFFS   SLEEP. 


face  came  into  the  moonlight.  It  was  Muff  Potter.  The  boys'  hearts  had  stood 
still,  and  their  hopes  too,  when  the  man  moved,  but  their  fears  passed  away  now. 
They  tip-toed  out,  through  the  broken  weather-boarding,  and  stopped  at  a  little 
distance  to  exchange  a  parting  word.  That  long,  lugubrious  howl  rose  on  the 
night  air  again !  They  turned  and  saw  the  strange  dog  standing  within  a  few  feet 
of  where  Potter  was  lying,  and  facing  Potter,  with  his  nose  pointing  heavenward. 


MENTAL  PUNISHMENT.  99 

"  O,  geeminy  it's  him  \  "  exclaimed  both  boys,  in  a  breath. 

"Say,  Tom  —  they  say  a  stray  dog  come  howling  around  Johnny  Miller's 
house,  'bout  midnight,  as  much  as  two  weeks  ago;  and  a  whippoorwill  come  in  and 
lit  on  the  bannisters  and  sung,  the  very  same  evening ;  and  there  ain't  anybody 
dead  there  yet." 

"Well  I  know  that.  And  suppose  there  ain't.  Didn't  Gracie  Miller  fall  in  the 
kitchen  fire  and  burn  herself  terrible  the  very  next  Saturday  ?  " 

"Yes,  but  she  ain't  dead.     And  what's  more,  she's  getting  better,  too." 

"  All  right,  you  wait  and  see.  She's  a  goner,  just  as  dead  sure  as  Muff  Potter's 
a  goner.  That's  what  the  niggers  say,  and  they  know  all  about  these  kind  of 
things,  Huck." 

Then  they  separated,  cogitating.  When  Tom  crept  in  at  his  bedroom  window, 
the  night  was  almost  spent.  He  undressed  with  excessive  caution,  and  fell  asleep 
congratulating  himself  that  nobody  knew  of  his  escapade.  He  was  not  aware  that 
the  gently-snoring  Sid  was  awake,  and  had  been  so  for  an  hour. 

When  Tom  awoke,  Sid  was  dressed  and  gone.  There  was  a  late  look  in  the 
light,  a  late  sense  in  the  atmosphere.  He  was  startled.  Why  had  he  not  been 
called — persecuted  till  he  was  up,  as  usual  ?  The  thought  filled  him  with  bodings. 
Within  five  minutes  he  was  dressed  and  down  stairs,  fee'ling  sore  and  drowsy. 
The  family  were  still  at  table,  but  they  had  finished  breakfast.  There  was  no 
voice  of  rebuke ;  but  there  were  averted  eyes ;  there  was  a  silence  and  an  air  of 
solemnity  that  struck  a  chill  to  the  culprit's  heart.  He  sat  down  and  tried  to  seem 
gay,  but  it  was  up-hill  work  ;  it  roused  no  smile,  no  response,  and  he  lapsed  into 
silence  and  let  his  heart  sink  down  to  the  depths. 

After  breakfast  his  aunt  took  him  aside,  and  Tom  almost  brightened  in  the  hope 
that  he  was  going  to  be  flogged ;  but  it  was  not  so.  His  aunt  wept  over  him  and 
asked  him  how  he  could  go  and  break  her  old  heart  so;  and  finally  told  him  to  go 
on,  and  ruin  himself  and  bring  her  grey  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave,  for  it  was 
no  use  for  her  to  try  any  more.  This  was  worse  than  a  thousand  whippings,  and 
Tom's  heart  was  sorer  now  than  his  body.  He  cried,  he  pleaded  for  forgiveness, 
promised  reform  over  and  over  again  and  then  received  his  dismissal,  feeling  that 
he  had  won  but  an  imperfect  forgiveness  and  established  but  a  feeble  confidence. 


TOM  SA  IVYEK. 


He  left  the  presence  too  miserable  to  even  feel  revengeful  toward  Sid  ;  and  so 
the  latter's  prompt  retreat  through  the  back  gate  was  unnecessary.  He  moped  to 
school  gloomy  and  sad,  and  took  his  flogging,  along  with  Joe  Harper,  for  playing 
hooky  the  day  before,  with  the  air  of  one  whose  heart  was  busy  with  heavier  woes 
and  wholly  dead  to  trifles.  Then  he  betook  himself  to  his  seat,  rested  his  elbows 
on  his  desk  and  his  jaws  in  his  hands  and  stared  at  the  wall  with  the  stony  stare 
of  suffering  that  has  reached  the  limit  and  can  no  further  go.  His  elbow  was 
pressing  against  some  hard  substance.  After  a  long  time  he  slowly  and  sadly 
changed  his  position,  and  took  up  this  object  with  a  sigh.  It  was.  in  a  paper. 
He  unrolled  it.  A  long,  lingering,  colossal  sigh  followed,  and  his  heart  broke. 
It  was  his  brass  andiron  knob ! 

This  final  feather  broke  the  camel's  back. 


upon  the  hour  of  noon  the 
whole  village  was  suddenly  electri- 
fied with  the  ghastly  news.  No  need 
of  the  as  yet  undreamed-of  telegraph ; 
the  tale  flew  from  man  to  man,  from 
group  to  group,  from  house  to  house, 
with  little  less  than  telegraphic  speed. 
Of  course  the  schoolmaster  gave  holi- 
day for  that  afternoon;  the  town 
would  have  thought  strangely  of  him 
if  he  had  not. 

A  gory  knife  had  been  found  close 
to  the  murdered  man,  and  it  had  been 
recognized  by  somebody  as  belong- 
ing to  Muff  Potter — so  the  story  ran, 
And  it  was  said  that  a  belated  citizen 
had  come  upon  Potter  washing  himself  in  the  "  branch  "  about  one  or  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  that  Potter  had  at  once  sneaked  off— suspicious 

101 


PoTTERT. 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


circumstances,  especially  the  washing,  which  was   not  a  habit  with  Potter. 

It  was  also   said   that   the  town   had   been   ransacked   for   this  "  murderer," 

(the  public  are  not  slow  in  the  matter 
of  sifting  evidence  and  arriving  at  a 
verdict),  but  that  he  could  not  be  found. 
Horsemen  had  departed  down  all  the 
roads  in  every  direction,  and  the  Sheriff 
"  was  confident "  that  he  would  be  cap- 
tured before  night. 

All  the  town  was  drifting  toward 
the  graveyard.  Tom's  heart-break  van- 
ished and  he  joined  the  procession,  not 
because  he  would  not  a  thousand  times 
rather  go  any  where  else,  but  because  an 
awful,  unaccountable  fascination  drew 
him  on.  Arrived  at  the  dreadful  place, 
he  wormed  his  small  body  through  the 
crowd  and  saw  the  dismal  spectacle. 
A  SUSPICIOUS  INCIDENT.  It  seemed  to  him  an  age  since  he  was 

there  before.      Somebody   pinched   his   arm.      He   turned,  and  his  eyes  met 

Huckleberry's.    Then  both  looked  elsewhere  at  once,  and  wondered  if  anybody 

had  noticed  anything  in  their  mutual  glance.     But  everybody  was  talking,  and 

intent  upon  the  grisly  spectacle  before  them. 

"Poor  fellow!"     "Poor  young  fellow!"     "This  ought  to  be  a  lesson  to 

grave-robbers  !  "     "  Muff  Potter'll  hang  for  this  if  they  catch  him  !  "     This  was 

the  drift  of  remark  ;  and  the  minister  said,  "  It  was  a  judgment;  His  hand  is 

here." 

Now  Tom  shivered  from  head  to  heel ;  for  his  eye  fell  upon  the  stolid  face  of 

Injun  Joe.     At  this  moment  the  crowd  began  to  sway  and  struggle,  and  voices 

shouted,  "  It's  him  !  it's  him  !  he's  coming  himself!  " 
"  Who  ?     Who  ?  "  from  twenty  voices. 
"Muff  Potter!" 


MUFF  POTTER  COMES  HIMSELF. 


103 


"  Hallo,  he's  stopped ! — Look  out,  he's  turning !     Don't  let  him  get  away  !  " 

People  in  the  branches  of  the  trees  over  Tom's  head,  said  he  wasn't  trying 
to  get  away — he  only  looked  doubtful  and  perplexed. 

"Infernal  impudence!  "  said  a  bystander;  "wanted  to  come  and  take  a  quiet 
look  at  his  work,  I  reckon — didn't  expect  any  company." 

The  crowd  fell  apart,  now,  and  the  Sheriff  came  through,  ostentatiously  lead- 
ing Potter  by  the  arm.  The  poor  fellow's  face  was  haggard,  and  his  eyes 


INJUN   JOE'S   TWO  VICTIMS. 

showed  the  fear  that  was  upon  him.  When  he  stood  before  the  murdered  man, 
he  shook  as  with  a  palsy,  and  he  put  his  face  in  his  hands  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  I  didn't  do  it,  friends,"  he  sobbed  ;  "  'pon  my  word  and  honor  I  never  done  it." 

"  Who's  accused  you  ?  "  shouted  a  voice. 

This  shot  seemed  to  carry  home.  Potter  lifted  his  face  and  looked  around 
him  with  a  pathetic  hopelessness  in  his  eyes.  He  saw  Injun  Joe,  and  exclaimed : 


104  TOM  SAWYER. 


"  O,  Injun  Joe,  you  promised  me  you'd  never — " 

"  Is  that  your  knife?  "  and  it  was  thrust  before  him  by  the  Sheriff. 

Potter  would  have  fallen  if  they  had  not  caught  him  and  eased  him  to  the 
ground.  Then  he  said : 

"  Something  told  me  't  if  I  didn't  come  back  and  get — "  He  shuddered ;  then 
waved  his  nerveless  hand  with  a  vanquished  gesture  and  said,  "  Tell  'em,  Joe, 
tell  'em — it  ain't  any  use  any  more." 

Then  Huckleberry  and  Tom  stood  dumb  and  staring,  and  heard  the  stony- 
he'arted  liar  reel  off  his  serene  statement,  they  expecting  every  moment  that  the 
clear  sky  would  deliver  God's  lightnings  upon  his  head,  and  wondering  to  see 
how  long  the  stroke  was  delayed.  And  when  he  had  finished  and  still  stood 
alive  and  whole,  their  wavering  impulse  to  break  their  oath  and  save  the  poor 
betrayed  prisoner's  life  faded  and  vanished  away,  for  plainly  this  miscreant  had 
sold  himself  to  Satan  and  it  would  be  fatal  to  meddle  with  the  property  of  such 
a  power  as  that.  * 

"  Why  didn't  you  leave  ?  What  did  you  want  to  come  here  for?  "  somebody 
said. 

"I  couldn't  help  it — I  couldn't  help  it,"  Potter  moaned.  " I  wanted  to  run 
away,  but  I  couldn't  seem  to  come  anywhere  but  here."  And  he  fell  to  sobbing 
again. 

Injun  Joe  repeated  his  statement,  just  as  calmly,  a  few  minutes  afterward  on 
the  inquest,  under  oath ;  and  the  boys,  seeing  that  the  lightnings  were  still 
withheld,  were  confirmed  in  their  belief  that  Joe  had  sold  himself  to  the  devil. 
He  was  now  become,  to  them,  the  most  balefully  interesting  object  they  had 
ever  looked  upon,  and  they  could  not  take  their  fascinated  eyes  from  his  face. 

They  inwardly  resolved  to  watch  him,  nights,  when  opportunity  should  offer, 
in  the  hope  of  getting  a  glimpse  of  his  dread  master. 

Injun  Joe  helped  to  raise  the  body  of  the  murdered  man  and  put  it  in  a 
wagon  for  removal ;  and  it  was  whispered  through  the  shuddering  crowd  that 
the  wound  bled  a  little !  The  boys  thought  that  this  happy  circumstance 
would  turn  suspicion  in  the  right  direction ;  but  they  were  disappointed,  for 
more  than  one  villager  remarked : 


TOM'S  CONSCIENCE  A  T  WORK.  105 

"  It  was  within  three  feet  of  Muff  Potter  when  it  done  it."  * 

Tom's  fearful  secret  and  gnawing  conscience  disturbed  his  sleep  for  as  much 
as  a  week  after  this ;  and  at  breakfast  one  morning  Sid  said  : 

"  Tom,  you  pitch  around  and  talk  in  your  sleep  so  much  that  you  keep  me 
awake  about  half  the  time." 

Tom  blanched  and  dropped  his  eyes. 

"  It's  a  bad  sign,"  said  Aunt  Polly,  gravely.  "  What  you  got  on  your  mind, 
Tom  ? " 

"  Nothing.  Nothing  't  I  know  of."  But  the  boy's  hand  shook  so  that  he 
spilled  his  coffee. 

"  And  you  do  talk  such  stuff,"  Sid  said.  "  Last  night  you  said  'it's  blood,  it's 
blood,  that's  what  it  is  ! '  You  said  that  over  and  over.  And  you  said,  '  Don't 
torment  me  so — I'll  tell ! '  Tell  what?  What  is  it  you'll  tell  ?" 

Everything  was  swimming  before  Tom.  There  is  no  telling  what  might 
have  happened,  now,  but  luckily  the  concern  passed  out  of  Aunt  Polly's  face 
and  she  came  to  Tom's  relief  without  knowing  it.  She  said  : 

"  Sho  !  It's  that  dreadful  murder.  I  dream  about  it  most  every  night  myself. 
Sometimes  I  dream  it's  me  that  done  it." 

Mary  said  she  had  been  affected  much  the  same  way.  Sid  seemed  satisfied. 
Tom  got  out  of  the  presence  as  quick  as  he  plausibly  could,  and  after  that  he 
complained  of  toothache  for  a  week,  and  tied  up  his  jaws  every  night.  He 
never  knew  that  Sid  lay  nightly  watching,  and  frequently  slipped  the  bandage 
free  and  then  leaned  on  his  elbow  listening  a  good  while  at  a  time,  and  after- 
ward slipped  the  bandage  back  to  its  place  again.  Tom's  distress  of  mind 
wore  off  gradually  and  the  toothache  grew  irksome  and  was  discarded.  If  Sid 
really  managed  to  make  anything  out  of  Tom's  disjointed  mutterings,  he  kept 
it  to  himself. 

It  seemed  to  Tom  that  his  schoolmates  never  would  get  done  holding  inquests 
on  dead  cats,  and  thus  keeping  his  trouble  present  to  his  mind,  Sid  noticed 
that  Tom  never  was  coroner  at  one  of  these  inquiries,  though  it  had  been  his 
habit  to  take  the  lead  in  all  new  enterprises ;  he  noticed,  too,  that  Tom  never 
acted  as  a  witness, — and  that  was  strange ;  and  Sid  did  not  overlook  the  fact 


106  TOM  SA  WYER. 


that  Tom  even  showed  a  marked  aversion  to  these  inquests,  and  always  avoided 
them  when  he  could.  Sid  marveled,  but  said  nothing.  However,  even  inquests 
went  out  of  vogue  at  last,  and  ceased  to  torture  Tom's  conscience. 

Every  day  or  two,  during  this  time  of  sorrow,  Tom  watched  his  opportunity 
and  went  to  the  little  grated  jail-window  and  smuggled  such  small  comforts 
through  to  the  "  murderer  "  as  he  could  get  hold  of.  The  jail  was  a  trifling 
little  brick  den  that  stood  in  a  marsh  at  the  edge  of  the  village,  and  no  guards 
were  afforded  for  it ;  indeed  it  was  seldom  occupied.  These  offerings  greatly- 
helped  to  ease  Tom's  conscience. 

The  villagers  had  a  strong  desire  to  tar-and-feather  Injun  Joe  and  ride  him 
On  a  rail,  for  body-snatching,  but  so  formidable  was  his  character  that  nobody 
could  be  found  who  was  willing  to  take  the  lead  in  the  matter,  so  it  was 
dropped.  He  had  been  careful  to  begin  both  of  his  inquest-statements  with 
the  fight,  without  confessing  the  grave-robbery  that  preceded  it ;  therefore  it 
was  deemed  wisest  not  to  try  the  case  in  the  courts  at  present. 


^ 


of  the  reasons  why 
Tom's  mind  had  drifted  away  from 
its  secret  troubles  was,  that  it  had 
found  a  new  and  weighty  matter  to 
interest  itself  about.  Becky  Thatcher 
had  stopped  coming  to  school.  Tom 
had  struggled  with  his  pride  a  few 
days,  and  tried  to  "  whistle  her  down 
the  wind,"  but  failed.  He  began  to 
find  himself  hanging  around  her 
father's  house,  nights,  and  feeling 
very  miserable.  She  was  ill.  What 
if  she  should  die !  There  was  dis- 
traction in  the  thought.  He  no 
longer  took  an  interest  in  war,  nor 
even  in  piracy.  The  charm  of  life 

1 '     was   gone;    there   was   nothing   but 

dreariness  left.     He  put  his  hoop  away,  and  his  bat ;  there  was  no  joy  in  them 
any  more.     His  aunt  was  concerned.     She  began  to  try  all  manner  of  remedies 

107 


io8 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


on  him.  She  was  one  of  those  people  who  are  infatuated  with  patent  medicines 
and  all  new-fangled  methods  of  producing  health  or  mending  it.  She  was  an 
inveterate  experimenter  in  these  things.  When  something  fresh  in  this  line  came 
out  she  was  in  a  fever,  right  away,  to  try  it;  not  on  herself,  for  she  was  never 
ailing,  but  on  anybody  else  that  came  handy.  She  was  a  subscriber  for  all  the 
"  Health  "  periodicals  and  phreneological  frauds;  and  the  solemn  ignorance  they 
were  inflated  with  was  breath  to  her  nostrils.  All  the  "  rot  "  they  contained  about 

ventilation,  and  how  to  go  to  bed,  and  how 
to  get  up,  and  what  to  eat,  and  what  to 
drink,  and  how  much  exercise  to  take,  and 
what  frame  of  mind  to  keep  one's  self  in, 
and  what  sort  of  clothing  to  wear,  was  all 
gospel  to  her,  and  she  never  observed  that 
her  health-journals  of  the  current  month 
customarily  upset  everything  they  had  rec- 
ommended the  month  before.  She  was  as 
simple-hearted  and  honest  as  the  day  was 
long,  and  so  she  was  an  easy  victim.  She 
gathered  together  her  quack  periodicals 
and  her  quack  medicines,  and  thus  armed 
with  death,  went  about  on  her  pale  horse, 
metaphorically  speaking,  with  "hell  follow- 
ing after."  But  she  never  suspected  that 
she  was  not  an  angel  of  healing  and  the 
balm  of  Gilead  in  disguise,  to  the  suffering  neighbors. 

The  water  treatment  was  new,  now,  and  Tom's  low  condition  was  a  windfall  to 
.her.  She  had  him  out  at  daylight  every  morning,  stood  him  up  in  the  woodshed 
and  drowned  him  with  a  deluge  of  cold  water ;  then  she  scrubbed  him  down  with 
a  towel  like  a  file,  and  so  brought  him  to;  then  she  rolled  him  up  in  a  wet  sheet 
:and  put  him  away  under  blankets  till  she  sweated  his  soul  clean  and  "  the  yellow 
stains  of  it  came  through  his  pores  " — as  Tom  said. 

Yet  notwithstanding  all  this,  the  boy  grew  more  and  more  melancholy  and  pale 


UINT    POLLY    SEEKS    INFORMATION. 


TOM-  SHO  WS  HIS  GENEROSI TV.  109 

and  dejected.  She  added  hot  baths,,  sitz  baths,  shower  baths  and  plunges.  The 
boy  remained  as  dismal  as  a  hearse.  She  began  to  assist  the  water  with  a  slim 
oatmeal  diet  and  blister  plasters.  She  calculated  his  capacity  as  she  would  a  jug'sr 
and  filled  him  up  every  day  with  quack  cure-alls. 

Tom  had  become  indifferent  to  persecution  by  this  time.  This  phase  filled  the 
old  lady's  heart  with  consternation.  This  indifference  must  be  broken  up  at  any 
cost.  Now  she  heard  of  Pain-killer  for  the  first  time.  She  ordered  a  lot  at  once. 
She  tasted  it  and  was  filled  with  gratitude.  It  was  simply  fire  in  a  liquid  form. 
She  dropped  the  water  treatment  and  everything  else,  and  pinned  her  faith  to 
Pain-killer.  She  gave  Tom  a  tea-spoonful  and  watched  with  the  deepest  anxiety 
for  the  result.  Her  troubles  were  instantly  at  rest,  her  soul  at  peace  again ;  for 
the  "  indifference  "  was  broken  up.  The  boy  could  not  have  shown  a  wilder, 
heartier  interest,  if  she  had  built  a  fire  under  him. 

Tom  felt  that  it  was  time  to  wake  up ;  this  sort  of  life  might  be  romantic  enough, 
in  his  blighted  condition,  but  it  was  getting  to  have  too  little  sentiment  and  too 
much  distracting  variety  about  it.  So  he  thought  over  various  plans  for  relief,  and 
finally  hit  upon  that  of  professing  to  be  fond  of  Pain-killer.  He  asked  for  it  so 
often  that  he  became  a  nuisance,  and  his  aunt  ended  by  telling  him  to  help  him- 
self and  quit  bothering  her.  If  it  had  been  Sid,  she  would  have  had  no  misgivings 
to  alloy  her  delight ;  but  since  it  was  Tom,  she  watched  the  bottle  clandestinely. 
She  found  that  the  medicine  did  really  diminish,  but  it  did  not  occur  to  her  that 
the  boy  was  mending  the  health  of  a  crack  in  the  sitting-room  floor  with  it. 

One  day  Tom  was  in  the  act  of  dosing  the  crack  when  his  aunt's  yellow  cat  came 
along,  purring,  eyeing  the  teaspoon  avariciously,  and  begging  for  a  taste.  Tom  said: 

"  Don't  ask  for  it  unless  you  want  it,  Peter." 

But  Peter  signified  that  he  did  want  it. 

"  You  better  make  sure." 

Peter  was  sure. 

"  Now  you've  asked  for  it,  and  I'll  give  it  to  you,  because  there  ain't  anything 
mean  about  me ;  but  if  you  find  you  don't  like  it,  you  musn't  blame  anybody,  but 
your  own  self." 

Peter  was  agreeable.     So  Tom  pried  his  mouth  open  and  poured  down  the 


TOM  SAWYER. 


Pain-killer.  Peter  sprang  a  couple  of  yards  in  the  air,  and  then  delivered  a 
war-whoop  and  set  off  round  and  round  the  room,  banging  against  furniture, 
upsetting  flower  pots  and  making  general  havoc.  Next  he  rose  on  his  hind  feet 
and  pranced  around,  in  a  frenzy  of  enjoyment,  with  his  head  over  his  shoulder  and 
his  voice  proclaiming  his  unappeasable  happiness.  Then  he  went  tearing  around 
the  house  again  spreading  chaos  and  destruction  in  his  path.  Aunt  Polly  entered 
in  time  to  see  him  throw  a  few  double  summersets,  deliver  a  final  mighty  hurrah, 


A    GENERAL    GOOD    TIME. 


and  sail  through  the  open  window,  carrying  the  rest  of  the  flower-pots  with  him. 
The  old  lady  stood  petrified  with  astonishment,  peering  over  her  glasses;  Tom  lay 
On  the  floor  expiring  with  laughter. 

"  Tom,  what  on  earth  ails  that  cat?  "          , 

"  1  don't  know,  aunt,"  gasped  the  boy. 

"  Why  I  never  see  anything  like  it.     What  did  make  him  act  so  ?  " 

"  Deed  I  don't  know  Aunt  Polly ;  cats  always  act  so  when  they're  having  a 
good  time." 


AUNT  POLLY  WEAKENS. 


"They  do,  do  they?"  There  was  something  in  the  tone  that  made  Tom 
apprehensive. 

"  Yes'm.     That  is,  I  believe  they  do." 

"  You  do  ?  " 

•'Yes'm." 

The  old  lady  was  bending  down,  Tom  watching,  with  interest  emphasized  by 
anxiety.  Too  late  he  divined  her  "  drift."  The  handle  of  the  tell-tale  tea-spoon 
was  visible  under  the  bed-valance.  Aunt  Polly  took  it,  held  it  up.  Tom  winced, 
and  dropped  his  eyes.  Aunt  Polly  raised  him  by  the  usual  handle — his  ear — and 
cracked  his  head  soundly  with  her  thimble. 

"  Now,  sir,  what  did  you  want  to  treat  that  poor  dumb  beast  so,  for  ?  " 

"I  done  it  out  of  pity  for  him — because  he  hadn't  any  aunt." 

"  Hadn't  any  aunt  ! — you  numscull.     What  has  that  got  to  do  with  it?  " 

"  Heaps.  Because  if  he'd  a  had  one  she'd  a  burnt  him  out  herself!  She'd  a 
roasted  his  bowels  out  of  him  'thout  any  more  feeling  than  if  he  was  a  human !  " 

Aunt  Polly  felt  a  sudden  pang  of  remorse.  This  was  putting  the  thing  in  a  new 
light ;  what  was  cruelty  to  a  cat  might  be  cruelty  to  a  boy,  too.  She  .began  to 
soften ;  she  felt  sorry.  Her  eyes  watered  a  little,  and  she  put  her  hand  on  Tom's 
head  and  said  gently  : 

"I  was  meaning  for  the  best,  Tom.     And  Tom,  it  did  do  you  good." 

Tom  looked  up  in  her  face  with  just  a  preceptible  twinkle  peeping  through  his 
gravity : 

"  I  know  you  was  meaning  for  the  best,  aunty,  and  so  was  I  with  Peter.  It  done 
him  good,  too.  I  never  see  him  get  around  so  since  —  " 

"  O,  go  'long  with  you,  Tom,  before  you  aggravate  me  again.  And  you  try  and 
see  if  you  can't  be  a  good  boy,  for  once,  and  you  needn't  take  anymore  medicine." 

Tom  reached  school  ahead  of  time.  It  was  noticed  that  this  strange  thing  had 
been  occurring  every  day  latterly.  And  now,  as  usual  of  late,  he  hung  about  the 
gate  of  the  school-yard  instead  of  playing  with  his  comrades.  He  was  sick,  he 
said,  and  he  looked  it.  He  tried  to  seem  to  be  looking  everywhere  but  whither  he 
really  was  looking — down  the  road.  Presently  Jeff  Thatcher  hove  in  sight,  and 
Tom's  face  lighted ;  he  gazed  a  moment,  and  then  turned  sorrowfully  away.  When 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


Jeff  arrived,  Tom  accosted  him,  and  "led  up  "  warily  to  opportunities  for  remark 
about  Becky,  but  the  giddy  lad  never  could  see  the  bait.  Tom  watched  and 
watched,  hoping  whenever  a  frisking  frock  came  in  sight,  and  hating  the  owner  of 
it  as  soon  as  he  saw  she  was  not  the  right  one.  At  last  frocks  ceased  to  appear, 
and  he  dropped  hopelessly  into  the  dumps  ;  he  entered  the  empty  school  house 
and  sat  down  to  surfer.  Then  one  more  frock  passed  in  at  the  gate,  and  Tom's 
heart  gave  a  great  bound.  The  next  instant  he  was  out,  and  "  going  on  "  like  an 
Indian  ;  yelling,  laughing,  chasing  boys,  jumping  over  the  fence  at  risk  of  life  and 
limb,  throwing  hand-springs,  standing  on  his  head — doing  all  the  heroic  things  he 
could  conceive  of,  and  keeping  a  furtive  eye  out,  all  the  while,  to  see  if  Becky 
Thatcher  was  noticing.  But  she  seemed  to  be  unconscious  of  it  all ;  she  never 
looked.  Could  it  be  posssble  that  she  was  not  aware  that  he  was  there  ?  He 
carried  his  exploits  to  her  immediate  vicinity ;  came  war-whooping  around,  snatched 
a  boy's  cap,  hurled  it  to  the  roof  of  the  school-house,  broke  through  a  group  of 
boys,  tumbling  them  in  every  direction,  and  fell  sprawling,  himself,  under  Becky's 
nose,  almost  upsetting  her — and  she  turned,  with  her  nose  in  the  air,  and  he  heard 
her  say.  "•  Mf !  some  people  think  they're  mighty  smart — always  showing  off!-" 

Tom's  cheeks  burned.     He  gathered  himself  up  and  sneaked  off,  crushed  and 
crestfallen. 


mind  was  made  up  now. 
He  was  gloomy  and  desperate.  He 
was  a  forsaken,  friendless  boy,  he 
said ;  nobody  loved  him  ;  when  they 
found  out  what  they  had  driven  him 
to,  perhaps  they  would  be  sorry ;  he 
had  tried  to  do  right  and  get  along, 
but  they  would  not  let  him;  since 
nothing  would  do  them  but  to  be  rid 
of  him,  let  it  be  so;  and  let  them 
blame  him  for  the  consequences — 
why  shouldn't  they  ?  What  right  had 
the  friendless  to  complain?  Yes, 
they  had  forced  him  to  it  at  last: 
he  would  lead  a  life  of  crime.  There 
was  no  choice. 

J3y   this    time  he   was   far    down 
Meadow  Lane,  and  the  bell  for  school  to  "take  up"  tinkled  faintly  upon  his 
ear.     He  sobbed,  now,  to  think  he  should  never,  never  hear  that  old  familiar 
8  113 


114  TOM  SAWYER. 


sound  any  more — it  was  very  hard,  but  it  was  forced  on  him ;  since  he  was 
driven  out  into  the  cold  world,  he  must  submit — but  he  forgave  them.  Then 
the  sobs  came  thick  and  fast. 

Just  at  this  point  he  met  his  soul's  sworn  comrade,  Joe  Harper — hard-eyed, 
and  with  evidently  a  great  and  dismal  purpose  in  his  heart.  Plainly  here  were 
"two  souls  with  but  a  single  thought."  Tom,  wiping  his  eyes  with  his  sleeve, 
began  to  blubber  out  something  about  a  resolution  to  escape  from  hard  usage 
and  lack  of  sympathy  at  home  by  roaming  abroad  into  the  great  world  never 
to  return ;  and  ended  by  hoping  that  Joe  would  not  forget  him. 

But  it  transpired  that  this  was  a  request  which  Joe  had  just  been  going  to 
make  of  Tom,  and  had  come  to  hunt  him  up  for  that  purpose.  His  mother  had 
whipped  him  for  drinking  some  cream  which  he  had  never  tasted  and  knew 
nothing  about;  it  was  plain  that  she  was  tired  of  him  and  wished  him  to  go; 
if  she  felt  that  way,  there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  but  succumb ;  he  hoped 
she  would  be  happy,  and  never  regret  having  driven  her  poor  boy  out  into  the 
unfeeling  world  to  suffer  and  die. 

As  the  two  boys  walked  sorrowing  along,  they  made  a  new  compact  to  stand 
by  each  other  and  be  brothers  and  never  separate  till  death  relieved  them  of 
their  troubles.  Then  they  began  to  lay  their  plans.  Joe  was  for  being  a  hermit, 
and  living  on  crusts  in  a  remote  cave,  and  dying,  some  time,  of  cold,  and  want, 
and  grief;  but  after  listening  to  Tom,  he  conceded  that  there  were  some  con- 
spicuous advantages  about  a  life  of  crime,  and  so  he  consented  to  be  a  pirate. 

Three  miles  below  St.  Petersburg,  at  a  point  where  the  Mississippi  river  was 
a  trifle  over  a  mile  wide,  there  was  a  long,  narrow,  wooded  island,  with  a  shal- 
low bar  at  the  head  of  it,  and  this  offered  well  as  a  rendezvous.  It  was  not 
inhabited ;  it  lay  far  over  toward  the  further  shore,  abreast  a  dense  and  almost 
wholly  unpeopled  forest.  So  Jackson's  Island  was  chosen.  Who  were  to  be 
the  subjects  of  their  piracies,  was  a  matter  that  did  not  occur  to  them.  Then 
they  hunted  up  Huckleberry  Finn,  and  he  joined  them  promptly,  for  all  cafeers 
were  one  to  him  ;  he  was  indifferent.  They  presently  separated  to  meet  at  a 
lonely  spot  on  the  river  bank  two  miles  above  the  village  at  the  favorite  hour 
-—which  was  midnight.  There  was  a  small  log  raft  there  which  they  meant  to 


THE    YOUNG  PIRATES  115 


capture.  Each  would  bring  hooks  and  lines,  and  such  provision  as  he  could 
steal  in  the  most  dark  and  mysterious  way — as  became  outlaws.  And  before  the 
afternoon  was  done,  they  had  all  managed  to  enjoy  the  sweet  glory  of  spread- 
ing the  fact  that  pretty  soon  the  town  would  "  hear  something."  All  who  got 
this  vague  hint  wefe  cautioned  to  "be  mum  and  wait." 

About  midnight  Tom  arrived  with  a  boiled  ham  and  a  few  trifles,  and  stopped 
in  a  dense  undergrowth  on  a  small  bluff  overlooking  the  meeting-place.  It  was 
starlight,  and  very  still.  The  mighty  river  lay  like  an  ocean  at  rest.  Tom 
listened  a  moment,  but  no  sound  disturbed  the  quiet.  Then  he  gave  a  low, 
distinct  whistle.  It  was  answered  from  under  the  bluff.  Tom  whistled  twice 
more ;  these  signals  were  answered  in  the  same  way.  Then  a  guarded  voice 
said : 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  " 

"  Tom  Sawyer,  the  Black  Avenger  of  the  Spanish  Main.     Name  your  names." 

"  Huck  Finn  the  Red-Handed,  and  Joe  Harper  the  Terror  of  the  Seas." 
Tom  had  furnished  these  titles,  from  his  favorite  literature. 

"  Tis  well.     Give  the  countersign." 

.Two  hoarse  whispers  delivered  the  same  awful  word  simultaneously  to  the 
brooding  night : 

«  BLOOD ! " 

Then  Tom  tumbled  his  ham  over  the  bluff  and  let  himself  down  after  it, 
tearing  both  skin  and  clothes  to  some  extent  in  the  effort.  There  was  an  easy, 
comfortable  path  along  the  shore  under  the  bluff,  but  it  lacked  the  advantages 
of  difficulty  and  danger  so  valued  by  a  pirate. 

The  Terror  of  the  Seas  had  brought  a  side  of  bacon,  and  had  about  worn 
himself  out  with  getting  it  there.  Finn  the  Red-Handed  had  stolen  a  skillet 
and  a  quantity  of  half-cured  leaf  tobacco,  and  had  also  brought  a  few  corn- 
cobs to  make  pipes  with.  But  none  of  the  pirates  smoked  or  "chewed"  but 
himself.  The  Black  Avenger  of  the  Spanish  Main  said  it  would  never  do  to 
start  without  some  fire.  That  was  a  wise  thought ;  matches  were  hardly  known 
there  in  that  day.  They  saw  a  fire  smouldering  upon  a  great  raft  a  hundred 
jards  above,  and  they  went  stealthily  thither  and  helped  themselves  to  a  chunk. 


Il6  TOM  SAWYER. 


They  made  an  imposing  adventure  of  it,  saying  "  Hist ! "  every  now  and  then, 
and  suddenly  halting  with  finger  on  lip ;  moving  with  hands  on  imaginary 
dagger-hilts;  and  giving  orders  in  dismal  whispers  that  if  "the  foe"  stirred, to 
" let  him  have  it  to  the  hilt,"  because  "dead  men  tell  no  tales."  They  knew 
well  enough  that  the  raftsmen  were  all  down  at  the  village  laying  in  stores  or 
having  a  spree,  but  still  that  was  no  excuse  for  their  conducting  this  thing  in 
an  unpiratical  way. 

They  shoved  off,  presently,  Tom  in  command,  Huck  at  the  after  oar  and  Joe 
at  the  forward.  Tom  stood  amidships,  gloomy-browed,  and  with  folded  arms, 
and  gave  his  orders  in  a  low,  stern  whisper  : 

"  Luff,  and  bring  her  to  the  wind  !  " 

"  Aye-aye,  sir  !  " 

"  Steady,  stead-y-y-y  !  " 

"Steady  it  is,  sir !  " 

"  Let  her  go  off  a  point !  " 

"  Point  it  is,  sir  !  " 

As  the  boys  steadily  and  monotonously  drove  the  raft  toward  mid-stream  it 
was  no  doubt  understood  that  these  orders  were  given  only  for  "  style,"  and 
were  not  intended  to  mean  anything  in  particular. 

"  What  sail's  she  carrying  ? " 

"  Courses,  tops'ls  and  flying-jib,  sir." 

"  Send  the  r'yals  up !  Lay  out  aloft,  there,  half  a  dozen  of  ye, — fo/etopmast- 
stuns'l !  Lively,  now  !  " 

"  Aye-aye,  sir !  " 

"  Shake  out  that  maintogalans'l !     Sheets  and  braces  !     Now,  my  hearties ! " 

"  Aye- aye,  sir  !  " 

"  Hellum'-a-lee — hard  a  port !  Stand  by  to  meet  her  when  she  comes !  Port, 
port !  Now,  men  !  With  a  will !  Stead-y-y-y  !  " 

"Steady  it  is,  sir!" 

The  raft  drew  beyond  the  middle  of  the  river ;  the  boys  pointed  her  head 
right,  and  then  lay  on  their  oars.  The  river  was  not  high,  so  there  was  not 
more  than  a  two  or  three-mile  current.  Hardly  a  word  was  said  during  the 
next  three-quarters  of  an  hour.  Now  the  raft  was  passing  before  the  distant 


GOING  TO   THE  RENDEZVOUS.  117 

town.  Two  or  three  glimmering  lights  showed  where  it  lay,  peacefully  sleep- 
ing, beyond  the  vague  vast  sweep  of  star-gemmed  water,  unconscious  of  the 
tremendous  event  that  was  happening.  The  Black  Avenger  stood  still  with 
folded  arms,  "  looking  his  last  "  upon  the  scene  of  his  former  joys  and  his  later 


ON    BOARD    THEIR    FIRST    PRIZE. 


sufferings,  and  wishing  "  she  "  could  see  him  now,  abroad  on  the  wild  sea, 
facing  peril  and  death  with  dauntless  heart,  going  to  his  doom  with  a  grim 
smile  on  his  lips.  It  was  but  a  small  strain  on  his  imagination  to  remove  Jack- 
son's Island  beyond  eye-shot  of  the  village,  and  so  he  "  looked  his  last "  with 
a  broken  and  satisfied  heart.  The  other  pirates  were  looking  their  last,  too  ; 
and  they  all  looked  so  long  that  they  came  near  letting  the  current  drift  them 
out  of  the  range  of  the  island.  Bat  they  discovered  the  danger  in  time,  and 
made  shift  to  avert  it.  About  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  raft  grounded  on 
the  bar  two  hundred  yards  above  the  head  of  the  island,  and  they  waded 
back  and  forth  until  they  had  landed  their  freight.  Part  of  the  little  raft's 


TOM  SAWYER. 


belongings  consisted  of  an  old  sail,  and  this'  they  spread  over  a  nook  in  the 
bushes  for  a  tent  to  shelter  their  provisions;  but  they  themselves  would  sleep 
in  the  open  air  in  good  weather,  as  became  outlaws. 

They  built  a  fire  against  the  side  of  a  great  log  twenty  or  thirty  steps  within 
the  sombre  depths  of  the  forest,  and  then  cooked  some  bacon  in  the  frying-pan 

for  supper,  and  used  up  half  of  the 
corn  "pone"  stock  they  had  brought. 
It  seemed  glorious  sport  to  be  feasting 
in  that  wild  free  way  in  the  virgin  for- 
est of  an  unexplored  and  uninhabited 
island,  far  from  the  haunts  of  men,  and 
they  said  they  never  would  return  to 
civilization.  The  climbing  fire  lit  up 
their  faces  and  threw  its  ruddy  glare 
upon  the  pillared  tree  trunks  of  their 
forest  temple,  and  upon  the  varnished 
foliage  and  festooning  vines. 

When  the  last  crisp  slice  of  bacon 
was  gone,  and  the  last  allowance  of  corn 
pone  devoured,  the  boys  stretched  them- 
selves out  on  the  grass,  filled  with  con- 
tentment. They  could  have  found  a 
cooler  place,  but  they  would  not  deny  themselves  such  a  romantic  feature  as 
the  roasting  camp-fire. 

"  Ain't  it  gay  ?  "     said  Joe. 

"  It's  nuts  !  "  said  Tom.     "  What  would  the  boys  say  if  they  could  see  us  ?  " 
"  Say  ?     Well  they'd  just^die  to  be  here— hey  Hucky  !  " 

"I  reckon  so,"  said  Huckleberry;  "anyways  7'm  suited.  I  dont  want  noth- 
ing better'n  this.  I  don't  ever  get  enough  to  eat,  gen 'ally — and  here  they  can't 
come  and  pick  at  a  feller  and  bullyrag  him  so." 

"It's  just  the  life  for  me,"  said  Tom.  ".You  don't  have  to  get  up,  mornings, 
and  you  don't  have  to  go  to  school,  and  wash,  and  all  that  blame  foolishness. 
You  see  a  pirate  don't  have  to  do  anything,  Joe,  when  he's  ashore,  but  a  hermit 


THE   PIRATES    ASHORE. 


THE  CAMP-FIRE  TALK.  119 


he  has  to  be  praying  considerable,  and  then  he  don't  have  any  fun,  anyway,  all 
by  himself  that  way." 

"  O  yes,  that's  so,"  said  Joe,  "  but  I  hadn't  thought  much  about  it,  you  know. 
I'd  a  good  deal  rather  be  a  pirate,  now  that  I've  tried  it." 

"  You  see,"  said  Tom,  "  people  don't  go  much  on  hermits,  now-a-days,  like 
they  used  to  in  old  times,  but  a  pirate's  always  respected.  And  a  hermit's  got 
to  sleep  on  the  hardest  place  he  can  find,  and  put  sack-cloth  and  ashes  on  his 
head,  and  stand  out  in  the  rain,  and —  " 

"  What  does  he  put  sack-cloth  and  ashes  on  his  head  for  ? "  inquired  Huck. 

"/dono.  But  they've^/ to  do  it.  Hermits  always  do.  You'd  have  to  do 
that  if  you  was  a  hermit." 

"  Dern'd  if  I  would,"  said  Huck. 

"Well  what  would  you  do?  " 

"  {  dono.     But  I  wouldn't  do  that." 

"  Why  Huck,  you'd  have  to.     How'd  you  get  around  it? " 

"  Why  I  just  wouldn't  stand  it.     I'd  run  away." 

"  Run  away !  Well  you  would  be  a  nice  old  slouch  of  a  hermit.  You'd  be  a 
disgrace." 

The  Red-Handed  made  no  response,  being  better  employed.  He  had  finished 
gouging  out  a  cob,  and  now  he  fitted  a  weed  stem  to  it,  loaded  it  with  tobacco, 
and  was  pressing  a  coal  to  the  charge  and  blowing  a  cloud  of  fragrant  smoke 
— he  was  in  the  full  bloom  of  luxurious  contentment.  The  other  pirates  envied 
him  this  majestic  vice,  and  secretly  resolved  to  acquire  it  shortly.  Presently 
Huck  said  : 

"  What  does  pirates  have  to  do?  " 

Tom  said : 

"  Oh  they  have  just  a  bully  time — take  ships,  and  burn  them,  and  get  the 
money  and  bury  it  in  awful  places  in  their  island  where  there's  ghosts  and 
things  to  watch  it,  and  kill  everybody  in  the  ships — make  'em  walk  a  plank." 

"  And  they  carry  the  women  to  the  island,"  said  Joe ;  "  they  don't  kill  the 
women." 

"  No,"  assented  Tom,  "  they  don't  kill  the  women — they're  too  noble.  And 
the  women's  always  beautiful,  too." 


TOM  SAWYER. 


"  And  don't  they  wear  the  bulliest  clothes !  Oh,  no  !  All  gold  and  silver 
and  di'monds,"  said  Joe,  with  enthusiasm. 

"Who?"  said  Huck. 

"  Why  the  pirates." 

Huck  scanned  his  own  clothing  forlornly. 

"  I  reckon  I  ain't  dressed  fitten  for  a  pirate,"  said  he,  with  a  regretful  pathos 
in  his  voice ;  "  but  I  ain't  got  none  but  these." 

But  the  other  boys  told  him  the  fine  clothes  would  come  fast  enough,  after 
they  should  have  begun  their  adventures.  They  made  him  understand  that  his 
poor  rags  would  do  to  begin  with,  though  it  was  customary  for  wealthy  pirates 
to  start  with  a  proper  wardrobe. 

Gradually  their  talk  died  out  and  drowsiness  began  to  steal  upon  the  eyelids 
of  the  little  waifs.  The  pipe  dropped  from  the  fingers  of  the  Red-Handed, 
and  he  slept  the  sleep  of  the  conscience-free  and  the  weary.  The  Terror  of  the 
Seas  and  the  Black  Avenger  of  the  Spanish  Main  had  more  difficulty  in  getting 
to  sleep.  They  said  their  prayers  inwardly,  and  lying  down,  since  there  was 
nobody  there  with  authority  to  make  them  kneel  and  recite  aloud ;  in  truth 
they  had  a  mind  not  to  say  them  at  all,  but  they  were  afraid  to  proceed  to  such 
lengths  as  that,  lest  they  might  call  down  a  sudden  and  special  thunderbolt 
from  Heaven.  Then  at  once  they  reached  and  hovered  upon  the  imminent 
verge  of  sleep — but  an  intruder  came,  now,  that  would  not  "  down."  It  was 
conscience.  They  began  to  feel  a  vague  fear  that  they  had  been  doing 
wrong  to  run  away ;  and  next  they  thought  of  the  stolen  meat,  and  then  the 
real  torture  came.  They  tried  to  argue  it  away  by  reminding  conscience  that 
they  had  purloined  sweetmeats  and  apples  scores  of  times ;  but  conscience  was 
not  to  be  appeased  by  such  thin  plausibilities;  it  seemed  to  them,  in  the  end, 
that  there  was  no  getting  around  the  stubborn  fact  that  taking  sweetmeats  was 
only  "hooking,"  while  taking  bacon  and  hams  and  such  valuables  was  plain 
simple  stealing — and  there  was  a  command  against  that  in  the  Bible.  So  they 
inwardly  resolved  that  so  long  as  they  remained  in  the  business,  their  piracies 
should  not  again  be  sullied  with  the  crime  of  stealing.  Then  conscience 
granted  a  truce,  and  these  curiously  inconsistent  pirates  fell  peacefully  to  sleep. 


Tom  awoke  in  the  morn- 
ing, he  wondered  where  he  was.  He 
sat  up  and  rubbed  his  eyes  and  looked 
around.  Then  he  comprehended.  It 
was  the  cool  gray  dawn,  and  there  was 
a  delicious  sense  of  repose  and  peace 
in  the  deep  pervading  calm  and  silence 
of  the  woods.  Not  a  leaf  stirred ;  not 
a  sound  obtruded  upon  great  Nature's 
meditation.  Beaded  dew-drops  stood 
upon  the  leaves  and  grasses.  A  white 
layer  of  ashes  covered  the  fire,  and  a 
thin  blue  breath  of  smoke  rose  straight 
into  the  air.  Joe  and  Huck  still  slept. 
Now,  far  away  in  the  woods  a  bird 
called ;  another  answered ;  presently 
the  hammering  of  a  woodpecker  was 
heard.  Gradually  the  cool  dim  gray  of  the  morning  whitened,  and  as  gradually 
sounds  multiplied  and  life  manifested  itself.  The  marvel  of  Nature  shaking  off 


TOM  SAWYER. 


sleep  and  going  to  work  unfolded  itself  to  the  musing  boy.  A  little  green  worm 
came  crawling  over  a  dewy  leaf,  lifting  two-thirds  of  his  body  into  the  air  from, 
time  to  time  and  "  sniffing  around,"  then  proceeding  again — for  he  was  measuring,. 
Tom  said ;  and  when  the  worm  approached  him,  of  its  own  accord,  he  sat  as  still 
as  a  stone,  with  his  hopes  rising  and  falling,  by  turns,  as  the  creature  still  came 
toward  him  or  seemed  inclined  to  go  elsewhere;  and  when  at  last  it  considered  a 
painful  moment  with  its  curved  body  in  the  air  and  then  came  decisively  down 
upon  Tom's  leg  and  began  a  journey  over  him,  his  whole  heart  was  glad — for  that 
meant  that  he  was  going  to  have  anew  suit  of  clothes — without  the  shadow  of  a  doubt 
a  gaudy  piratical  uniform.  Now  a  procession  of  ants  appeared,  from  nowhere  in 
particular,  and  went  about  their  labors;  one  struggled  manfully  by  with  a  dead 
spider  five  times  'as  big  as  itself  in  its  arms,  and  lugged  it  straight  up  a  tree-trunk. 
A  brown  spotted  lady-bug  climbed  the  dizzy  height  of  a  grass  blade,  and  Tom 
bent  down  close  to  it  and  said,  "  Lady-bug,  lady-bug,  fly  away  home,  your  house 
is  on  fire,  your  children's  alone,"  and  she  took  wing  and  went  off  to  see  about  it — 
which  did  not  surprise  the  boy,  for  he  knew  of  old  that  this  insect  was  credulous 
about  conflagrations  and  he  had  practiced  upon  its  simplicity  more  than  once.  A 
tumble-bug  came  next,  heaving  sturdily  at  its  ball,  and  Tom  touched  the  creature, 
to  see  it  shut  its  legs  against  its  body  and  pretend  .to  be  dead.  The  birds  were 
fairly  rioting  by  this  time.  A  cat-bird,  the  northern  mocker,  lit  in  a  tree  over 
Tom's  head,  and  trilled  out  her  imitations  of  her  neighbors  in  a  rapture  of  enjoy- 
ment; then  a  shrill  jay  swept  down,  a  flash  of  blue  flame,  and  stopped  on  a  twig 
almost  within  the  boy's  reach,  cocked  his  head  to  one  side  and  eyed  the  strangers 
with  a  consuming  curiosity  ;  a  gray  squirrel  and  a  big  fellow  of  the  "fox  "  kind 
came  skurrying  along,  sitting  up  at  intervals  to  inspect  and  chatter  at  the  boys, 
for  the  wild  things  had  probably  never  seen  a  human  being  before  and  scarcely 
knew  whether  to  be  afraid  or  not.  All  Nature  was  wide  awake  and  stirring,  now; 
long  lances  of  sunlight  pierced  down  through  the  dense  foliage  far  and  near,  and 
a  few  butterflies  came  fluttering  upon  the  scene. 

Tom  stirred  up  the  other  pirates  and  they  all  clattered  away  with  a  shout,  and 
in  a  minute  or  two  were  stripped  and  chasing  after  and  tumbling  over  each  other 
in  the  shallow  limpid  water  of  the  white  sand-bar.  They  felt  no  longing  for  the 


CAMP-LIFE. 


little  village  sleeping  in  the  distance  beyond  the  majestic  waste  of  water.  A 
vagrant  current  or  a  slight  rise  in  the  river  had  carried  off  their  raft,  but  this  only 
gratified  them,  since  its  going  was  some- 
thing like  burning  the  bridge  between  them 
and  civilization. 

They  came  back  to  camp  wonderfully 
refreshed,  glad-hearted,  and  ravenous ;  and 
they  soon  had  the  camp-fire  blazing  up 
again.  Huck  found  a  spring  of  clear  cold 
water  close  by,  and  the  boys  made  cups  of 
broad  oak  or  hickory  leaves',  and  felt  that 
water,  sweetened  with  such  a  wild-wood 
charm  as  that,  would  be  a  good  enough 
substitute  for  coffee.  While  Joe  was  slicing 
bacon  for  breakfast,  Tom  and  Huck  asked 
him  to  hold  on  a  minute ;  they  stepped  to 
a  promising  nook  in  the  river  bank  and 
threw  in  their  lines;  almost  immediately 
they  had  reward.  Joe  had  not  had  time  to  THF  PIRATES'  BATH. 

get  impatient  before  they  were  back  again  with  some  handsome  bass,  a  couple 
of  sun-perch  and  a  small  catfish — provisions  enough  for  quite  a  family.  They 
fried  the  fish  with  the  bacon  and  were  astonished;  for  no. fish  had  ever  seemed  so 
delicious  before.  They  did  not  know  that  the  quicker  a'fresh  water  fish  is  on  the 
fire  after  he  is  caught  the  better  he  is  ;  and  they  reflected  little  upon  what  a  sauce 
open  air  sleeping,  open  air  exercise,  bathing,  and  a  large  ingredient  of  hunger 
makes,  too. 

They  lay  around  in  the  shade,  after  breakfast,  while  Huck  had  a  smoke,  and  then 
went  off  through  the  woods  on  an  exploring  expedition.  They  tramped  gaily 
along,  over  decaying  logs,  through  tangled  underbrush,  among  solemn  monarchs 
of  the  forest,  hung  from  their  crowns  to  the  ground  with  a  drooping  regalia  of 
grape-vines.  Now  and  then  they  came  upon  snug  nooks  carpeted  with  grass  and 
jeweled  with  flowers. 


I24 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


They  found  plenty  of  things  to  be  delighted  with  but  nothing  to  be  astonished 
at.     They  discovered  that  the  island  was  about  three  miles  long  and  a  quarter  of 

a  mile  wide,  and  that  the  shore  it  lay 
closest  to  was  only  separated  from  it 
by  a  narrow  channel  hardly  two  hundred 
yards  wide.  They  took  a  swim  about 
every  hour,  so  it  was  close  upon  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon  when  they  got 
back  to  camp.  They  were  too  hungry 
to  stop  to  fish,  but  they  fared  sumptu- 
ously upon 'cold  ham,  and  then  threw 
themselves  down,  in  the  shade  to  talk. 
But  the  talk  soon  began  to  drag,  and 
then  died.  The  stillness,  the  solemnity 
that  brooded  in  the  woods,  and  the  sense 
of  loneliness,  began  to  tell  upon  the 
spirits  of  the  boys.  They  fell  to  think- 
ing. A  sort  of  undefined  longing  crept 
upon  them.  This  took  dim  shape,  pre- 
Even  Finn  the  Red-Handed  was  dreaming 
But  they  were  all  ashamed  of  their  weak- 
ness, and  none  was  brave  enough  to  speak  his  thought. 

For  some  time,  now,  the  boys  had  been  dully  conscious  of  a  peculiar  sound  in 
the  distance,  just  as  one  sometimes  is  of  the  ticking  of  a  clock  which  he  takes  no 
distinct  note  of.     But  now  this  mysterious  sound  became  more  pronounced,  and 
forced  a  recognition.     The   boys  started,  glanced  at  each'  other,  and  then  each 
assumed  a  listening  attitude.     There  was  a  long  silence,  profound  and  unbroken  ;  • 
then  a  deep,  sullen  boom  came  floating  down  out  of  the  distance. 
"  What  is  it !  "  exclaimed  Joe,  under  his  breath. 
"  I  wonder,"  said  Tom  in  a  whisper. 

"  Tain't  thunder,"  said  Huckleberry,  in  an  awed  tone,  "becuz  thunder  —  " 
"  Hark !  "  said  Tom.     "  Listen — don't  talk." 


THE   PLEASANT   STROLL. 

sently — it  was  budding  home-sickness. 
-of  his  door-steps  and  empty  hogsheads. 


A   SENSATION. 


I25 


They  waited  a  time  that  seemed  an  age,  and  then  the  same  muffled  boom  troubled 
the  solemn  hush. 
"  Let's  go  and  see." 
They  sprang  to  their  feet  and  hurried  to  the  shore  toward  the  town.     They 


THE    SEARCH    FOR    THE    DROWNED. 


parted  the  bushes  on  the  bank  and  peered  out  over  the  water.     The  little  steam 
ferry  boat  was  about  a  mile  below  the  village,  drifting  with  the  current.     Her 
broad  deck  seemed  crowded  with  people.     There  were  a  great  many  skiffs  rowing 
about  or  floating  with  the  stream  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  ferry  boat,  but  the 
boys  could  not  determine  what  the  men  in  them  were  doing.     Presently  a  great 
jet  of  white  smoke  burst  from  the  ferry  boat's  side,  and  as  it  expanded  and  rose  in 
a  lazy  cloud,  that  same  dull  throb  of  sound  was  borne  to  the  listeners  again. 
"  I  know  now !  "  exclaimed  Tom ;  "  somebody's  drownded  !  " 
"That's  it!  "  said  Huck;  "they  done  that  last  summer,  when  Bill  Turner  got 
drownded  ;  they  shoot  a  cannon  over  the  water,  and  that  makes  him  come  up  to 


126  TOM  SA  WYER. 


the  top.  Yes,  and  they  take  loaves  of  bread  and  put  quicksilver  in  'em  and  set  'em 
afloat,  and  wherever  there's  anybody  that's  drownded,  they'll  float  right  there  and 
stop." 

"  Yes,  I've  heard  about  that,"  said  Joe.  "  I  wonder  what  makes  the  bread  do  that." 

"  Oh  it  ain't  the  bread,  so  much,"  said  Tom ;  "  I  reckon  it's  mostly  what  they 
say.  over  it  before  they  start  it  out." 

"  But  they  don't  say  anything  over  it,"  said  Huck.  "  I've  seen  'em  and  they 
don't." 

"Well  that's  funny,"  said  Tom.  "But  maybe  they  say  it  to  themselves.  Of 
course  they  do.  Anybody  might  know  that." 

The  other  boys  agreed  that  there  was  reason  in  what  Tom  said,  because  an 
ignorant  lump  of  bread,  uninstructed  by  an  incantation,  could  not  be  expected  to 
act  very  intelligently  when  sent  upon  an  errand  of  such  gravity. 

"  By  jings  I  wish  I  was  over  there,  now,"  said  Joe. 

"  I  do  too,"  said  Huck.     "  I'd  give  heaps  to  know  who  it  is." 

The  boys  still  listened  and  watched.  Presently  a  revealing  thought  flashed 
through  Tom's  mind,  and  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Boys,  I  know  who's  drownded — it's  us  !  " 

.  They  felt  like  heroes  in  an  instant.  Here  was  a  gorgeous  triumph ;  they  were 
missed;  they  were  mourned;  hearts  were  breaking  on  their  account;  tears  were 
being  shed;  accusing  memories  of  unkindnesses  to  these  poor  lost  lads  were 
rising  up,  and  unavailing  regrets  and  remorse  were  being  indulged;  and  best  of 
all,  the  departed  were  the  talk  of  the  whole  town,  and  the  envy  of  all  the  boys,  as 
far  as  this  dazzling  notoriety  was  concerned.  This  was  fine.  It  was  worth  while 
to  be  a  pirate,  after  all. 

As  twilight  drew  on,  the  ferry  boat  went  back  to  her  accustomed  business  and 
the  skiffs  disappeared.  The  pirates  returned  to  camp.  They  were  jubilant  with 
vanity  over  their  new  grandeur  and  the  illustrious  trouble  they  were  making. 
They  caught  fish,  cooked  supper  and  ate  it,  and  then  fell  to  guessing  at  what  the 
village  was  thinking  and  saying  about  them ;  and  the  pictures  they  drew  of  the 
public  distress  on  their  account  were  gratifying  to  look  upon — from  their  point  of 
view.  But  when  the  shadows  of  night  closed  them  in,  they  gradually  ceased  to 


TOM  STEALS  AWAY  FROM  CAMP. 


127 


talk,  and  sat  gazing  into  the  fire,  with  their  minds  evidently  wandering  elsewhere. 
The  excitement  was  gone,  now,  and  Tom  and  Joe  could  not  keep  back  thoughts 
of  certain  persons  at  home  who  were  not' enjoying  this  fine  frolic  as  much  as  they 
were.  Misgivings  came  ;  they  grew  troubled  and  unhappy ;  a  sigh  or  two  escaped, 
unawares.  By  and  by  Jo/e  timidly  ventured  upon  a  round-about  "  feeler  "  as  to 
how  the  others  might  look  upon  a  return  to  civilization — not  right  now,  but — 

Tom  withered  him  with  derision  !  Huck,  being  uncommitted,  as  yet,  joined  in 
with  Tom,  and  the  waverer  quickly  "  ex- 
plained," and  was  glad  to  get  out  of  the 
scrape  with  as  little  taint  of  chicken- 
hearted  home-sickness  clinging  to  his  gar- 
ments as  he  could.  Mutiny  was  effectu- 
ally laid  to  rest  for  the  moment. 

As  the  night  deepened,  Huck  began 
to  nod,  and  presently  to  snore.  Joe 
followed  next.  Tom  lay  upon  his  elbow 
motionless,  for  some  time,  watching  the 
two  intently.  At  last  he  got  up  cauti- 
ously, on  his  knees,  and  went  searching 
among  the  grass  and  the  flickering  reflec- 
tions flung  by  the  camp-fire.  He  picked 
up  and  inspected  several  large  semi-cylin- 
ders of  the  thin  white  bark  of  a  sycamore, 

and  finally  chose  two  which  seemed  to  suit  TOM'S  MYSTERIOUS  WRITING. 

him.  Then  he  knelt  by  the  fire  and  painfully  wrote  something  upon  each  of  these 
with  his  "  red  keel ;  "  one  he  rolled  up  and  put  in  his  jacket  pocket,  and  the  other 
,he  put  in  Joe's  hat  and  removed  it  to  a  little  distance  frcm  the  owner.  And  he 
also  put  into  the  hat  certain  school-boy  treasures  of  almost  inestimable  value — 
among  them  a  lump  of  chalk,  an  India  rubber  ball,  three  fish-hooks,  and  one 
of  that  kind  of  marbles  known  as  a  "sure  'nough  crystal."  Then  he  tip-toed 
his  way  cautiously  among  the  trees  till  he  felt  that  he  was  out  of  hearing,  and 
straightway  broke  into  a  keen  run  in  the  direction  of  the  sand-bar. 


FEW  minutes  later  Tom  was 
in  the  shoal  water  of  the  bar, 
wading  toward  the  Illinois  shore. 
Before  the  depth  reached  his  middle 
he  was  half  way  over ;  the  current 
would  permit  no  more  wading,  now, 
so  he  struck  out  confidently  to  swim 
the  remaining  hundred  yards.  He 
swam  quartering  up  stream,  but 
still  was  swept  downward  rather 
faster  than  he  had  expected.  How- 
ever, he  reached  the  shore  finally,  and 
drifted  along  till  he  found  a  low 
place  and  drew  himself  out.  He 
put  his  hand  on  his  jacket  pocket,  found  his  piece  of  bark  safe,  and  then  struck 
through  the  woods,  following  the  shore,  with  streaming  garments.  Shortly 

128 


TOM  RECONNOITERS.  129 


before  ten  o'clock  he  came  out  into  an  open  place  opposite  the  village,  and  saw 
the  ferry  boat  lying  in  the  shadow  of  the  trees  and  the  high  bank.  Everything 
was  quiet  under  the  blinking  stars.  .  He  crept  down  the  bank,  watching  with 
all  his  eyes,  slipped  into  the  water,  swam  three  or  four  strokes  and  climbed 
into  the  skiff  that  did  "yawl  "  duty  at  the  boat's  stern.  He  laid  himself  down 
under  the  thwarts  and  waited,  panting. 

Presently  the  cracked  bell  tapped  and  a  voice  gave  the  order  to  "  cast  off.'* 
A  minute  or  two  later  the  skiffs  head  was  standing  high  up,  against  the  boat's 
swell,  and  the  voyage  was  begun.  Tom  felt  happy  in  his  success,  for  he  knew 
it  was  the  boat's  last  trip  for  the  night.  At  the  end  of  a  long  twelve  or  fifteen 
minutes  the  wheels  stopped,  and  Tom  slipped  overboard  and  swam  ashore  in 
the  dusk,  tending  fifty  yards  down  stream,  out  of  danger.of  possible  stragglers. 

He  flew  along  unfrequented  alleys,  and  shortly  found  himself  at  his  aunt's 
back  fence.  He  climbed  over,  approached  the  "  ell  "  and  looked  in  at  the 
sitting-room  window,  for  a  light  was  burning  there.  There  sat  Aunt  Polly,  Sid, 
Mar}-,  and  Joe  Harper's  mother,  grouped  together,  talking.  They  were  by  the 
bed,  and  the  bed  was  between  them  and  the  door.  Tom  went  to  the  door  and 
began  to  softly  lift  the  latch ;  then  he  pressed  gently  and  the  door  yielded  a 
crack  ;  he  continued  pushing  cautiously,  and  quaking  every  time  it  creaked, 
till  he  judged  he  might  squeeze  through  on  his  knees ;  and  so  he  put  his  head 
through  and  began,  warily. 

"  What  makes  the  candle  blow  so  ?  "  said  Aunt  Polly.  Tom  hurried  up. 
"  Why  that  door's  open,  I  believe.  Why  of  course  it  is.  No  end  of  strange 
things  now.  Go  'long  and  shut  it,  Sid." 

Tom  disappeared  under  the  bed  just  in  time.  He  lay  and  "breathed  "  him- 
self for  a  time,  and  then  crept  to  where  he  could  almost  touch  his  aunt's  foot. 

"  But  as  I  was  saying,"  said  Aunt  Polly,  "he  warn't  bad,  so  to  say — only  mis- 
ch^vous.  Only  just  giddy,  and  harum-scarum,  you  know.  He  warn't  any 
more  responsible  than  a  colt.  He  never  meant  any  harm,  and  he  was  the  best- 
hearted  boy  that  ever  was  " — and  she  began  to  cry. 

"It  was  just  so  with  my  Joe — always  full  of  his  devilment,  and  up  to  every 
kind  of  mischief,  but  he  was  just  as  unselfish  and  kind  as  he  could  be — 
9 


130 


TOM  SAWYER.. 


and  laws  bless  me,  to  think  I  went  and  whipped  him  for  taking  that  cream, 
never  once  recollecting  that  I  throwed  it  out  myself  because  it  was  sour,  and  I 
never  to  see  him  again  in  this  world,  never,  never,  never,  poor  abused  boy!  " 
And  Mrs  Harper  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

"  I  hope  Tom's  better  off  where  he  is,"  said  Sid,  "  but  if  he'd  been  better  in 
some  ways — " 

"  Sid!  "  Tom  felt  the  glare  of  the  old  lady's  eye,  though  he  could  not  see  it. 
"  Not  a  word  against  my  Tom,  now  that  he's  gone  !  God'll  take  care  of  him — 
never  you  trouble yourself,  sir!  Oh,  Mrs.  Harper,  I  don't  know  how  to  give 


him  up  !     I  don't  know  how  to  give  him  up  !     He  was  such  a  comfort  to  me, 
although  he  tormented  my  old  heart  out  of  me,  "most." 

"The  Lord  giveth  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away, — Blessed  be  the  name  of 
the  Lord !     But  it's  so  hard — Oh,  it's  so  hard !     Only  last   Saturday  my  Joe 


TOM  LEARNS  THE  SITUATION.  131 

busted  a  fire-cracker  right  under  my  nose  and  I  knocked  him  sprawling.  Lit- 
tle did  I  know  then,  how  soon — O,  if  it  was  to  do  over  again  I'd  hug  him  and 
bless  him  for  it." 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes,  I  know  just  how  you  feel,  Mrs.  Harper,  I  know  just  exactly 
how  you  feel.  No  longer  ago  than  yesterday  noon,  my  Tom  took  and  filled 
the  cat  full  of  Pain-Killer,  and  I  did  think  the  cretur  would  tear  the  house 
-down.  And  God  forgive  me,  I  cracked  Tom's  head  with  my  thimble,  poor  boy, 
poor  dead  boy.  But  he's  out  of  all  his  troubles  now.  And  the  last  words  I 
•ever  heard  him  say  was  to  reproach — " 

But  this  memory  was  too  much  for  the  old  lady,  and  she  broke  entirely  down. 
Tom  was  snuffling,  now,  himself — and  more  in  pity  of  himself  than  any- 
body else.  He  could  hear  Mary  crying,  and  putting  in  a  kindly  word  for  him 
from  time  to  time.  He  began  to  have  a  nobler  opinion  of  himself  than  ever 
before.  Still  he  was  sufficiently  touched  by  his  aunt's  grief  to  long  to  rush 
out  from  under  the  bed  and  overwhelm  her  with  joy — and  the  theatrical  gor- 
geousness  of  the  thing  appealed  strongly  to  his  nature,  too,  but  he  resisted  and 
lay  still. 

He  went  on  listening,  and  gathered  by  odds  and  ends  that  it  was  conjectured 
at  first  that  the  boys  had  got  drowned  while  taking  a  swim;  then  the  small 
raft  had  been  missed ;  next,  certain  boys  said  the  missing  lads  had  promised 
that  the  village  should  "  hear  something  "  soon  ;  the  wise-heads  had  "  put  this 
and  that  together"  and  decided  that  the  lads  had  gone  off  on  that  raft  and 
would  turn  up  at  the  next  town  below,  presently ;  but  toward  noon  the  raft 
had  been  found,  lodged  against  the  Missouri  shore  some  five  or  six  miles  below 
the  village, — and  then  hope  perished;  they  must  be  drowned,  else  hunger 
would  have  driven  them  home  by  nightfall  if  not  sooner.  It  was  believed  that 
the  search  for  the  bodies  had  been  a  fruitless  effort  merely  because  the  drown- 
ing must  have  occurred  in  mid-channel,  since  the  boys,  being  good  swimmers, 
would  otherwise  have  escaped  to  shore.  This  was  Wednesday  night.  If  the 
bodies  continued  missing  until  Sunday,  all  hope  would  be  given  over,  and  the 
funerals  would  be  preached  on  that  morning.  Tom  shuddered. 

Mrs.  Harper  gave  a  sobbing  good-night  and  turned  to  go.     Then  with  a 


132  TOM  SAWYER. 


mutual  impulse  the  two  bereaved  women  flung  themselves  into  each  other's  arms 
and  had  a  good,  consoling  cry,  and  then  parted.  Aunt  Polly  was  tender  far 
beyond  her  wont,  in  her  good-night  to  Sid  and  Mary.  Sid  snuffled  a  bit  and 
Mary  went  off  crying  with  all  her  heart. 

Aunt  Polly  knelt  down  and  prayed  for  Tom  so  touchingly,  so  appealingly, 
and  with  such  measureless  love  in  her  words  and  her  old  trembling  voice,  that 
he  was  weltering  in  tears  again,  long  before  she  was  through. 

He  had  to  keep  still  long  after  she  went  to  bed,  for  she  kept  making  broken- 
hearted ejaculations  from  time  to  time,  tossing  unrestfully,  and  turning  over. 
But  at  last  she  was  still,  only  moaning  a  little  in  her  sleep.  Now  the  boy  stole 
out,  rose  gradually  by  the  bedside,  shaded  the  candle-light  with  his  hand,  and 
stood  regarding  her.  His  heart  was  full  of  pity  for  her.  He  took  out  his  syc- 
amore scroll  and  placed  it  by  the  candle.  But  something  occurred  to  him,  and 
he  lingered  considering.  His  face  lighted  with  a  happy  solution  of  his  thought ; 
he  put  the  bark  hastily  in  his  pocket.  Then  he  bent  over  and  kissed  the  faded 
lips,  and  straightway  made  his  stealthy  exit,  latching  the  door  behind  him. 

He  threaded  his  way  back  to  the  ferry  landing,  found  nobody  at  large  there, 
and  walked  boldly  on  board  the  boat,  for  he  knew  she  was  tenantless  except 
that  there  was  a  watchman,  who  always  turned  in  and  slept  like  a  graven  image. 
He  untied  the  skiff  at  the  stern,  slipped  into  it,  and  was  soon  rowing  cau- 
tiously up  stream.  When  he  had  pulled  a  mile  above  the  village,  he  started 
quartering  across  and  bent  himself  stoutly  to  his  work.  He  hit  the  landing  on 
the  other  side  neatly,  for  this  was  a  familiar  bit  of  work  to  him.  He  was 
moved  to  capture  the  skiff,  arguing  that  it  might  be  considered  a  ship  and 
therefore  legitimate  prey  for  a  pirate,  but  he  knew  a  thorough  search  would  be 
made  for  it  and  that  might  end  in  revelations.  So  he  stepped  ashore  and 
entered  the  wood. 

He  sat  down  and  took  a  long  rest,  torturing  himself  meantime  to  keep 
awake,  and  then  started  wearily  down  the  home-stretch.  The  night  was  far 
spent.  It  was  broad  daylight  before  he  found  himself  fairly  abreast  the  island 
bar.  He  rested  again  until  the  sun  was  well  up  and  gilding  the  great  river 
with  its  splendor,  and  then  he  plunged  into  the  stream.  A  little  later  he 


TOM  REPORTS  A  T  CAMP. 


paused,    dripping,    upon   the   threshold   of    the   camp,   and   heard   Joe    say : 

"  No,  Tom's  true-blue,  Huck,  and  he'll  come  back.  He  won't  desert.  He 
knows  that  would  be  a  disgrace  to  a  pirate,  and  Tom's  too  proud  for  that  sort 
•of  thing.  He's  up  to  something  or  other.  Now  I  wonder  what  ?  " 

"  Well,  the  things  is  ours,  anyway,  ain't  they  ?  " 

"  Pretty  near,  but  not  yet,  Huck.  The  writing  says  they  are  if  he  ain't  back 
here  to  breakfast." 

"  Which  he  is  !  "  exclaimed  Tom,  with  fine  dramatic  effect,  stepping  grandly 
into  camp. 

A  sumptuous  breakfast  of  bacon  and  fish  was  shortly  provided,  and  as  the 
boys  set  to  work  upon  it,  Tom  recounted  (and  adorned)  his  adventures.  They 
were  a  vain  and  boastful  company  of  heroes  when  the  tale  was  done.  Then 
Tom  hid  himself  away  in  a  shady  nook  to  sleep  till  noon,  and  the  other  pirates 
.got  ready  to  fish  and  explore. 


they 
bar, 


dinner  all  the  gang  turned 
out  to  hunt  for  turtle  eggs  on  the 
bar.  They  went  about  poking  sticks 
into  the  sand,  and  when  they  found 
a  soft  place  they  went  down  on  their 
knees  and  dug  with  their  hands. 
Sometimes  they  would  take  fifty  or 
sixty  eggs  out  of  one  hole.  They 
were  perfectly  round  white  things  a 
trifle  smaller  than  an  English  walnut, 
They  had  a  famous  fried-egg  feast 
that  night,  and  another  on  Friday 
morning. 

After  breakfast  they  went  whoop- 
ing and  prancing  out  on  the  bar,  and 
chased  each  other  round  and  round, 
shedding  clothes  as  they  went,  until 
were  naked,  and  then  continued  the  frolic  far  away  up  the  shoal  water  of  the 
against  the  stiff  current,  which  latter  tripped  their  legs  from  under  them  from 

134 


A  DA  y*S  AMUSEMENTS. 


'35 


time  to  time  and  greatly  increased  the  fun.  And  now  and  then  they  stooped  in  a 
group  and  splashed  water  in  each  other's  faces  with  their  palms,  gradually 
approaching  each  other,  with  averted  faces  to  avoid  the  strangling  sprays  and 
finally  gripping  and  struggling  till  the 
best  man  ducked  his  neighbor,  and  then 
they  all  went  under  in  a  tangle  of  white 
legs  and  arms  and  came  up  blowing, 
sputtering,  laughing  and  gasping  for  breath 
at  one  and  the  same  time. 

When  they  were  well  exhausted,  they 
would  run  out  and  sprawl  on  the  dry,  hot 
sand,  and  lie  there  and  cover  themselves 
up  with  it,  and  by  and  by  break  for  the 
water  again  and  go  through  the  original 
performance  once  more.  Finally  it  oc- 
curred to  them  that  their  naked  skin 
represented  flesh-colored  "  tights "  very 
fairly ;  so  they  drew  a  ring  in  the  sand  and 
had  a  circus — with  three  clowns  in  it,  for 
none  would  yield  this  proudest  post  to 
his  neighbor.  THE  PIRATES'  EGG  MARKET. 

Next  they  got  their  marbles  and  played  "  knucks  "  and  "  ring-taw  "  and  "  keeps  " 
till  that  amusement  grew  stale.  Then  Joe  and  Huck  had  another  swim,  but  Tom 
would  not  venture,  because  he  found  that  in  kicking  oft  his  trousers  he  had  kicked 
his  string  of  rattlesnake  rattles  off  his  ankle,  and  he  wondered  how  he  had  escaped 
cramp  so  long  without  the  protection  of  this  mysterious  charm.  He  did  not 
venture  again  until  he  had  found  it,  and  by  that  time  the  other  boys  were  tired 
and  ready  to  rest.  They  gradually  wandered  apart,  dropped  into  the  "dumps," 
and  fell  to  gazing  longingly  across  the  wide  river  to  where  the  village  lay  drowsing 
in  the  sun.  Tom  found  himself  writing  "  BECKY  "  in  the  sand  with  his  big  toe  ; 
he  scratched  it  out,  and  was  angry  with  himself  for  his  weakness.  But  he  wrote  it 
again,  nevertheless  ;  he  could  not  help  it.  He  erased  it  once  more  and  then  took 


136  TOM  SA  WYER. 


himself  out  of  temptation  by  driving  the  other  boys  together  and  joining  them. 

But  Joe's  spirits  had  gone  down  almost  beyond  resurrection.  He  was  so  home- 
sick that  he  could  hardly  endure  the  misery  of  it.  The  tears  lay  very  near  the 
surface.  Huck  was  melancholy,  too.  Tom  was  down-hearted,  but  tried  hard  not 
to  show  it.  He  had  a  secret  which  he  was  not  ready  to  tell,  yet,  but  if  this  muti- 
nous depression  was  not  broken  up  soon,  he  would  have  to  bring  it  out.  He  said, 
with  a  great  show  of  cheerfulness  : 

"  I  bet  there's  been  pirates  on  this  island  before,  boys.  We'll  explore  it  again. 
They've  hid  treasures  here  somewhere.  How'd  you  feel  to  light  on  a  rotten  chest 
full  of  gold  and  silver — hey  ?  " 

But  it  roused  only  a  faint  enthusiasm,  which  faded  out,  with  no  reply.  Tom 
tried  one  or  two  other  seductions;  but  they  failed,  too.  It  was  discouraging 
work.  Joe  sat  poking  up  the  sand  with  a  stick  and  looking  very  gloomy.  Finally 
he  said  : 

"  O,  boys,  let's  give  it  up.     I  want  to  go  home.     It's  so  lonesome." 

"Oh,  no,  Joe,  you'll  feel  better  by  and  by,"  said  Tom.  "Just  think  of  the  fish- 
ing that's  here." 

"  I  don't  care  for  fishing.     I  want  to  go  home." 

"  But  Joe,  there  ain't  such  another  swimming  place  anywhere." 

"  Swimming's  no  good.  I  don't  seem  to  care  for  it,  somehow,  when  there  ain't 
anybody  to  say  I  shan't  go  in.  I  mean  to  go  home." 

"  O,  shucks  !     Baby !     You  want  to  see  your  mother,  I  reckon." 

"  Yes,  I  do  want  to  see  my  mother — and  you  would  too,  if  you  had  one.  I  ain't 
any  more  baby  than  you  are."  And  Joe  snuffled  a  little. 

"  Well,  we'll  let  the  cry-baby  go  home  to  his  mother,  won't  we  Huck  ?  Poor 
thing — does  it  want  to  see  its  mother  ?  And  so  it  shall.  You  like  it  here,  don't 
you  Huck  ?  We'll  stay,  won't  we  ?  " 

Huck  said  "  Y-e-s  " — without  any  heart  in  it. 

"  I'll  never  speak  to  you  again  as  long  as  I  live,"  said  Joe,  rising.  "  There 
now !  "  And  he  moved  moodily  away  and  began  to  dress  himself. 

"Who  cares!"  said  Tom.  "Nobody  wants  you  to.  Go  'long  home  and  get 
laughed  at.  O,  you're  a  nice  pirate.  Huck  and  me  ain't  cry-babies.  We'll  stay, 


TOM  REVEALS  A   SECRET.  137 


won't  we  Huck?  Let  him  go  if  he  wants  to.  I  reckon  we  can  get  along  without 
him,  per'aps." 

But  Tom  was  uneasy,  nevertheless,  and  was  alarmed  to  see  Joe  go  sullenly  on 
with  his  dressing.  And  then  it  was  discomforting  to  see  Huck  eyeing  Joe's  prepa- 
rations so  wistfully,  and  keeping  up  such  an  ominous  silence.  Presently,  without 
a  parting  word,  Joe  began  to  wade  off  toward  the  Illinois  shore.  Tom's  heart  began 
to  sink.  He  glanced  at  Huck.  Huck  could  not  bear  the  look,  and  dropped  his 
eyes.  Then  he  said  : 

"  I  want  to  go,  too,  Tom.  It  was  getting  so  lonesome  anyway,  and  now  it'll  be 
worse.  Let's  us  go  too,  Tom." 

"  I  won't !     You  can  all  go,  if  you  want  to.     I  mean  to  stay." 

"Tom,  I  better  go." 

"Well  go  'long — who's  hendering  you." 

Huck  began  to  pick  up  his  scattered  clothes.     He  said : 

"  Tom,  I  wisht  you'd  come  too.  Now  you  think  it  over.  We'll  wait  for  you 
when  we  get  to  shore." 

"  Well  you'll  wait  a  blame  long  time,  that's  all." 

Huck  started  sorrowfully  away,  and  Tom  stood  looking  after  him,  with  a  strong 
desire  tugging  at  his  heart  to  yield  his  pride  and  go  along  too.  He  hoped  the 
boys  would  stop,  but  they  still  waded  slowly  on.  It  suddenly  dawned  on  Tom 
that  it  was  become  very  lonely  and  still.  He  made  one  final  struggle  with  his 
pride,  and  then  darted  after  his  comrades,  yelling : 

"  Wait !     Wait !     I  want  to  tell  you  something  !  " 

They  presently  stopped  and  turned  around.  When  he  got  to  where  they  were, 
he  began  unfolding  his  secret,  and  they  listened  moodily  till  at  last  they  saw  the 
"  point "  he  was  driving  at,  and  then  they  set  up  a  war-whoop  of  applause  and 
said  it  was  "splendid !  "  and  said  if  he  had  told  them  at  first,  they  wouldn't  have 
started  away.  He  made  a  plausible  excuse ;  but  his  real  reason  had  been  the 
fear  that  not  even  the  secret  would  keep  them  with  him  any  very  great  length  of 
time,  and  so  he  had  meant  to  hold  it  in  reserve  as  a  last  seduction. 

The  lads  came  gaily  back  and  went  at  their  sports  again  with  a  will,  chattering 
all  the  time  about  Tom's  stupendous  plan  and  admiring  the  genius  of  it.  After  a 


138  TOM  SA  WYER. 


dainty  egg  and  .  fish  dinner,  Tom  said  he  wanted  to  learn  to  smoke,  now.  Joe 
caught  at  the  idea  and  said  he  would  like  to  try,  too.  So  Huck  made  pipes  and 
filled  them.  These  novices  had  never  smoked  anything  before  but  cigars  made  of 
grape-vine  and  they  "bit  "  the  tongue  and  were  not  considered  manly,  anyway. 

Now  they  stretched  themselves  out  on  their  elbows  and  began  to  puff,  charily, 
and  with  slender  confidence.  The  smoke  had  an  unpleasant  taste,  and  they 
gagged  a  little,  but  Tom  said  : 

"Why  it's  just  as  easy!     If  I'd  a  knowed  this  was  all,  I'd  a  learnt  long  ago." 

"  So  would  I,"  said  Joe.     "  It's  just  nothing." 

"  Why  many  a  time  I've  looked  at  people  smoking,  and  thought  well  I  wish  I 
could  do  that ;  but  I  never  thought  I  could,"  said  Tom. 

"That's  just  the  way  with  me,  hain't  it  Huck?  You've  heard  me  talk  just  that 
way — haven't  you  Huck  ?  I'll  leave  it  to  Huck  if  I  haven't." 

"Yes — heaps  of  times,"  said  Huck. 

"Well!  have  too,"  said  Tom;  "  O,  hundreds  of  times.  Once  down  by  the 
slaughter-house.  Don't  you  remember,  Huck  ?  Bob  Tanner  was  there,  and 
Johnny  Miller,  and  Jeff  Thatcher,  when  I  said  it.  Don't  you  remember  Huck, 
'bout  me  saying  that  ?  " 

"Yes,  that's  so,"  said  Huck.  "That  was  the  day  after  I  lost  a  white  alley. 
No,  'twas  the  day  before." 

"  There— I  told  you  so,"  said  Tom.     "  Huck  recollects  it." 

"  I  bleeve  I  could  smoke  this  pipe  all  day,"  said  Joe.     "  /  don't  feel  sick.' 

"Neither  do  I,"  said  Tom.  "/could  smoke  it  all  day.  But  I  bet  you  Jeff 
Thatcher  couldn't." 

"Jeff  Thatcher!  Why  he'd  keel  over  just  with  two  draws.  Just  let  him  try  it 
once.  ZfcWsee  !  " 

"  I  bet  he  would.  And  Johnny  Miller — I  wish  I  could  see  Johnny  Miller 
tackle  it  once." 

"  O,  dont  //  "  said  Joe,  "Why  I  bet  you  Johnny  Miller  couldn't  any  more  do 
this  than  nothing.  Just  one  little  snifter  would  fetch  him." 

"  'Deed  it  would,  Joe.     Say — I  wish  the  boys  could  see  us  now." 

"  So  do  I." 


THE  PIRA  TES  TAKE  A  LESSON. 


"  Say — boys,  don't  say  anything  about  it,  and  some  time  when  they're  around,. 
I'll  come  up  to  you  and  say  '  Joe,  got  a  pipe?  I  want  a  smoke.'  And  you'll  say,, 
kind  of  careless  like,  as  if  it  warn't  anything,  you'll  say,  'Yes,  I  got  my  old  pipe, 
and  another  one,  but  my  tobacker  ain't  very  good.'  And  I'll  say,  '  Oh,  that's  all 
right,  if  it's  strong  enough.'  And  then  you'll  out  with  the  pipes,  and  we'll  light  up 
just  as  ca'm,  and  then  just  see  'em  look !  " 

"  By  jings  that'll  be  gay,  Tom  !     I  wish  it  was  now !  " 

"  So  do  I !      And  when  we  tell  'em  we 

learned    when    we   was    off  pirating,    won't  <^^B%&&*&flMy&kM 

they  wish  they'd  been  along?"  .£ 

"O,   I    reckon   not!      I'll   just,   bet  they 
will!  " 

So   the    talk   ran   on.      But  presently   it 
began  to   flag  a  trifle,  and  grow  disjointed,    s 
The  silences    widened ;  the    expectoration    ' 
marvelously  increased.     Every  pore  inside 
the  boys'  cheeks  became  a  spouting  fount-    i 
ain ;    they     could     scarcely   bail    out    the  1 
cellars  under  their  tongues  fast  enough  to 
prevent    an  inundation ;  little    overflowings 
down  their  throats  occurred  in  spite  of  all 
they    could      do,     and      sudden     retchings' 
followed     every    time.      Both     boys    were  ^ 
looking    very  pale     and    miserable,    now.  x 

Joe's    pipe    dropped    from     his    nerveless  TOM  LOOKING  FOR  JOE'S  KNIFE. 

fingers.     Tom's  followed.     Both  fountains  were  going  furiously  and  both  pumps 
bailing  with  might  and  main.     Joe  said  feebly  : 

"  I've  lost  my  knife.     I  reckon  I  better  go  and  find  it." 

Tom  said,  with  quivering  lips  and  halting  utterance  : 

"I'll  help  you.  You  go  over  that  way  and  I'll  hunt  around  by  the  spring.  No, 
you  needn't  come,  Huck — we  can  find  it." 

So  Huck  sat  down  again,  and  waited  an  hour.     Then  he  found  it  lonesome,. 


140  TOM  SAWYER. 


and  went  to  find  his  comrades.  They  were  wide  apart  in  the  woods,  both  very 
pale,  both  fast  asleep.  But  something  informed  him  that  if  they  had  had  any 
trouble  they  had  got  rid  of  it. 

They  were  not  talkative  at  supper  that  night.  They  had  a  humble  look, 
and  when  Huck  prepared  his  pipe  after  the  meal  and  was  going  to  prepare  theirs, 
they  said  no,  they  were  not  feeling  very  well — something  they  ate  at  dinner  had 
disagreed  with  them. 

About  midnight  Joe  awoke,  and  called  the  boys.  There  was  a  brooding 
oppressiveness  in  the  air  that  seemed  to  bode  something.  The  boys  huddled 
themselves  together  and  sought  the  friendly  companionship  of  the  fire,  though 
the  dull  dead  heat  of  the  breathless  atmosphere  was  stifling.  They  sat  still,  intent 
and  waiting.  The  solemn  hush  continued.  Beyond  the  light  of  the  fire  every- 
thing was  swallowed  up  in  the  blackness  of  darkness.  Presently  there  came  a 
quivering  glow  that  vaguely  revealed  the  foliage  for  a  moment  and  then  vanished. 
By  and  by  another  came,  a  little  stronger.  Then  another.  Then  a  faint  moan 
came  sighing  through  the  branches  of  the  forest  and  the  boys  felt  a  fleeting  breath 
upon  their  cheeks,  and  shuddered  with  the  fancy  that  the  Spirit  of  the  Night  had 
gone  by.  There  was  a  pause.  Now  a  wierd  flash  turned  night  into  day  and 
showed  every  little  grass-blade,  separate  and  distinct,  that  grew  about  their  feet. 
And  it  showed  three  white,  startled  faces,  too.  A  deep  peal  of  thunder  went  roll- 
ing and  tumbling  down  the  heavens  and  lost  itself  in  sullen  rumblings  in  the 
•distance.  A  sweep  of  chilly  air  passed  by,  rustling  all  the  leaves  and  snowing  the 
flaky  ashes  broadcast  about  the  fire.  Another  fierce  glare  lit  up  the  forest  and  an 
instant  crash  followed  that  seemed  to  rend  the  tree-tops  right  over  tbe  boys'  heads. 
They  clung  together  in  terror,  in  the  thick  gloom  that  followed.  A  few  big  rain- 
drops fell  pattering  upon  the  leaves. 

"  Quick!  boys,  go  for  the  tent!  "  exclaimed  Tom. 

They  sprang  away,  stumbling  over  roots  and  among  vines  in  the  dark,  no  two 
plunging  in  the  same  direction.  A  furious  blast  roared  through  the  trees,  making 
everything  sing  as  it  went.  One  blinding  flash  after  another  came,  and  peal  on 
peal  of  deafening  thunder.  And  now  a  drenching  rain  poured  down  and  the 
rising  hurricane  drove  it  in  sheets  along  the  ground.  The  boys  cried  out  to  each 


A  NIGHT  SUXPXISE. 


other,  but  the  roaring  wind  and  the 
booming  thunder-blasts  drowned  their 
voices  utterly.  However  one  by  one 
they  straggled  in  at  last  and  took  shelter 
under  the  tent,  cold,  scared,  and  stream- 
ing with  water ;  but  to  have  company  in 
misery  seemed  something  to  be  grateful 
for.  They  could  not  talk,  the  old  sail 
flapped  so  furiously,  even  if  the  other 
noises  would  have  allowed  them.  The 
tempest  rose  higher  and  higher,  and 
presently  the  sail  tore  loose  from  its 
fastenings  and  went  winging  away  on 
the  blast.  The  boys  seized  each  others' 
hands  and  fled,  with  many  tumblings  and 
bruises,  to  the  shelter  of  a  great  oak  that 
stood  upon  the  river  bank.  Now  the 
battle  was  at  its  highest.  Under  the 
ceaseless  conflagration  of  lightning  that 
flamed  in  the  skies,  everything  below 
stood  out  in  clean-cut  and  shadowless 
distinctness:  the  bending  trees,  the  bil- 
lowy river,  white  with  foam,  the  driving 
spray  of  spume-flakes,  the  dim  outlines 
of  the  high  bluffs  on  the  other  side, 
glimpsed  through  the  drifting  cloud-rack 
and  the  slanting  veil  of  rain.  Every  little 
while  some  giant  tree  yielded  the  fight 
and  fell  crashing  through  the  younger 
growth ;  and  the  unflagging  thunder-peals 
came  now  in  ear-splitting  explosive 
bursts,  keen  and  sharp,  and  unspeakably 


342  TOM  SA  WYER. 


appalling.  The  storm  culminated  in  one  matchless  effort  that  seemed  likely  to 
tear  the  island  to  pieces,  burn  it  up,  drown  it  to  the- tree  tops,  blow  it  away,  and 
•deafen  every  creature  in  it,  all  at  one  and  the  same  moment.  It  was  a  wild 
night  for  homeless  young  heads  to  be  out  in. 

But  at  last  the  battle  was  done,  and  the  forces  retired  with  weaker  and  weaker 
threatenings  and  grumblings,  and  peace  resumed  her  sway.  The  boys  went  back 
to  camp,  a  good  deal  awed ;  but  they  found  there  was  still  something  to  be  thank- 
ful for,  because  the  great  sycamore,  the  shelter  of  their  beds,  was  a  ruin,  now, 
blasted  by  the  lightnings,  and  they  were  not  under  it  when  the  catastrophe  happened. 

Everything  in  camp  was  drenched,  the  camp-fire  as  well ;  for  they  were  but  heed- 
less lads,  like  their  generation,  and  had  made  no  provision  against  rain.  Here  was 
matter  for  dismay,  for  they  were  soaked  through  and  chilled.  They  were  eloquent 
in  their  distress ;  but  they  presently  discovered  that  the  fire  had  eaten  so  far  up 
under  the  great  log  it  had  been  built  against,  (where  it  curved  upward  and  separa- 
ted itself  from  the  ground,)  that  a  hand-breadth  or  so  of  it  had  escaped  wetting ; 
so  they  patiently  wrought  until,  with  shreds  and  bark  gathered  from  the  under 
sides  of  sheltered  logs,  they  coaxed  the  fire  to  burn  again.  Then  they  piled  on 
great  dead  boughs  till  they  had  a  roaring. furnace  and  were  glad-hearted  once 
more.  They  dried  their  boiled  ham  and  had  a  feast,  and  after  that  they  sat  by 
the  fire  and  expanded  and  glorified  their  midnight  adventure  until  morning,  for 
there  was  not  a  dry  spot  to  sleep  on,  anywhere  around. 

As  the  sun  began  to  steal  in  upon  the  boys,  drowsiness  came  over  them  and  they 
went  out  on  the  sand-bar  and  lay  down  to  sleep.  They  got  scorched  out  by  and 
"by,  and  drearily  set  about  getting  breakfast.  After  the  meal  they  felt  rusty,  and 
stiff-jointed,  and  a  little  homesick  once  more.  Tom  saw  the  signs,  and  fell  to 
cheering  up  the  pirates  as  well  as  he  could.  But  they  cared  nothing  for  marbles, 
or  circus,  or  swimming,  or  anything.  He  reminded  them  of  the  imposing  secret, 
and  raised  a  ray  of  cheer.  While  it  lasted,  he  got  them  interested  in  anew  device. 
This  was  to  knock  off  being  pirates,  for  a  while,  and  be  Indians  for  a  change. 
They  were  attracted  by  this  idea;  so  it  was  not  long  before  they  were  stripped,  and 
striped  from  head  to  heel  with  black  mud,  like  so  many  zebras, — all  of  them 
chiefs,  of  course — and  then  they  went  tearing  through  the  woods  to  attack  an* 
English  settlement. 


AN  INDIAN  WAR. 


By  and  by  they  separated  into  three  hostile  tribes,  and  darted  upon  each  other 
from  ambush  with  dreadful  war-whoops,  and  killed  and  scalped  each  other  by 
thousands.  It  was  a  gory  day.  Consequently  it  was  an  extremely  satisfactory  one. 

They  assembled  in  camp  toward  supper 
time,  hungry  and  happy ;  but  now  a  diffi- 
culty  arose — hostile  Indians  could  not 
break  the  bread  of  hospitality  together 
without  first  making  peace,  and  this  was 
.a  simple  impossibility  without  smoking 
a  pipe  of  peace.  There  was  no  other 
process  that  ever  they  had  heard  of.  Two 
of  the  savages  almost  wished  they  had 
remained  pirates.  However,  there  was  no 
other  way  ;  so  with  such  show  of  cheerful- 
ness as  they  could  must'er  they  called  for 
the  pipe  and  took  their  whiff  as  it  passed, 
in  due  form. 

And  behold  they  were  glad  they,  had 
gone  into  savagery,  for  they  had  gained 
something;  they  found  that  they  could  now 
.smoke  a  little  without  having  to  go  and 


TERRIBLE    SLAUGHTER. 


hunt  for  a  lost  knife ;  they  did  not  get  sick  enough  to  be  seriously  uncomfortable. 
They  were  not  likely  to  fool  away  this  high  promise  for  lack  of  effort.  No,  they 
practiced  cautiously,  after  supper,  with  right  fair  success,  and  so  they  spent  a 
jubilant  evening.  They  were  prouder  and  happier  in  their  new  acquirement  than 
they  would  have  been  in  the  scalping  and  skinning  of  the  Six  Nations.  We  will 
leave  them  to  smoke  and  chatter  and  brag,  since  we  have  no  further  use  for  them 
.at  present. 


CHAPTER  ^m-g 

;5fo  ^ 


there  was  no  hilarity  in  the  lit- 
tle town  that  same  tranquil  Saturday 
afternoon.  The  Harpers,  and  Aunt 
Polly's  family,  were  being  put  into 
mourning,  with  great  grief  and  many 
tears.  An  unusual  quiet  possessed  the 
village,  although  it  was  ordinarily  quiet 
enough,  in  all  conscience.  The  vil- 
lagers conducted  their  concerns  with 
an  absent  air,  and  talked  little;  but 
they  sighed  often.  The  Saturday  hol- 
iday seemed  a  burden  to  the  children. 
They  had  no  heart  in  their  sports,  and 
gradually  gave  them  up. 

In   the    afternoon    Becky   Thatcher 
found  herself  moping  about  the  deser- 
ted school-house  yard,  and  feeling  very 
melancholy.     But  she  found  nothing  there  to  comfort  her.     She  soliloquised : 
"  Oh,  if  I  only  had  his  brass  andiron-knob  again  !     But  I  haven't  got  any- 
thing now  to  remember  him  by."     And  she  choked  back  a  little  sob. 

144 


MEMORIES  OF  THE  LOST  HEROES.  145 

Presently  she  stopped,  and  said  to  herself: 

"  It  was  right  here.  O,  if  it  was  to  do  over  again,  I  wouldn't  say  that — I 
wouldn't  say  it  for  the  whole  world.  But  he's  gone  now ;  I'll  never  never 
never  see  him  any  more. " 

This  thought  broke  her  down  and  she  wandered  away,  with  the  tears  rolling 
down  her  cheeks.  Then  quite  a  group  Of  boys  and  girls, — playmates  of  Tom's 
and  Joe's— came  by,  and  stood  looking  over  the  paling  fence  and  talking  in 
reverent  tones  of  how  Tom  did  so-and-so,  the  last  time  they  saw  him,  and  how 
Joe  said  this  and  that  small  trifle  (pregnant  with  awful  prophecy,  as  they  could 
easily  see  now  !)— and  each  speaker  pointed  out  the  exact  spot  where  the  lost 
lads  stood  at  the  time,  and  then  added  something  like  "  and  I  was  a  standing  just 
so — just  as  I  am  now,  and  as  if  you  was  him — I  was  as  close  as  that — and  he 
smiled,  just  this  way — and  then  something  seemed  to  go  all  over  me,  like, — aw- 
ful, you  know — and  I  never  thought  what  it  meant,  of  course,  but  I  can  see  now  ! " 

Then  there  was  a  dispute  about  who  saw  the  dead  boys  last  in  life,  and  many 
claimed  that  dismal  distinction,  and  offered  evidences,  more  or  less  tampered 
with  by  the  witness;  and  when  it  was  ultimately  decided  who  did  see  the 
departed  last,  and  exchanged  the  last  words  with  them,  the  lucky  parties  took 
upon  themselves  a  sort  of  sacred  importance,  and  were  gaped  at  and  envied  by 
all  the  rest.  One  poor  chap,  who  had  no  other  grandeur  to  offer,  said  with 
tolerably  manifest  pride  in  the  remembrance  : 

"  Well,  Tom  Sawyer  he  licked  me  once." 

But  that  bid  for  glory  was  a  failure.  Most  of  the  boys  could  say  that,  and 
so  that  cheapened  the  distinction  too  much.  The  group  loitered  away,  still 
recalling  memories  of  the  lost  heroes,  in  awed  voices. 

When  the  Sunday-school  hour  was  finished,  the  next  morning,  the  bell  began 
to  toll,  instead  of  ringing  in  the  usual  way.  It  was  a  very  still  Sabbath,  and 
the  mournful  sound  seemed  in  keeping  with  the  musing  hush  that  lay  upon 
nature.  The  villagers  began  to  gather,  loitering  a  moment  in  the  vestibule  to 
converse  in  whispers  about  the  sad  event.  But  there  was  no  whispering  in  the 
house ;  only  the  funereal  rustling  of  dresses  as  the  women  gathered  to  their 
seats,  disturbed  the  silence  there.  None  could  remember  when  the  little  church 
10 


146  TOM  SAWYER. 


had  been  so  full  before.  There  was  finally  a  waiting  pause,  an  expectant  dumb- 
ness, and  then  Aunt  Polly  entered,  followed  by  Sid  and  Mary,  and  they  by  the 
Harper  family,  all  in  deep  black,  and  the  whole  congregation,  the  old  minister 
as  well,  rose  reverently  and  stood,  until  the  mourners  were  seated  in  the  front 
pew.  There  was  another  communing  silence,  broken  at  intervals  by  muffled 
sobs,  and  then  the  minister  spread  his  hands  abroad  and  prayed.  A  moving 
hymn  was  sung,  and  the  text  followed:  "  I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life." 

As  the  service  proceeded,  the  clergyman  drew  such  pictures  of  the  graces, 
the  winning  ways  and  the  rare  promise  of  the  lost  lads,  that  every  soul  there, 
thinking  he  recognized  these  pictures,  felt  a  pang  in  remembering  that  he  had 
persistently  blinded  himself  to  them,  always  before,  and  had  as  persistently 
seen  only  faults  and  flaws  in  the  poor  boys.  The  minister  related  many  a 
touching  incident  in  the  lives  of  the  departed,  too,  which  illustrated  their  sweet, 
generous  natures,  and  the  people  could  easily  see,  now,  how  noble  and  beauti- 
ful those  episodes  were,  and  remembered  with  grief  that  at  the  time  they 
occurred  they  had  seemed  rank  rascalities,  well  deserving  of  the  cowhide.  The 
congregation  became  more  and  more  moved,  as  the  pathetic  tale  went  on,  till 
at  last  the  whole  company  broke  down  and  joined  the  weeping  mourners  in  a 
chorus  of  anguished  sobs,  the  preacher  himself  giving  way  to  his  feelings,  and 
crying  in  the  pulpi't. 

There  was  a  rustle  in  the  gallery,  which  nobody  noticed ;  a  moment  later  the 
church  door  creaked  ;  the  minister  raised  his  streaming  eyes  above  his  hand- 
kerchief, and  stood  transfixed!  First  one  and  then  another  pair  of  eyes  fol- 
lowed the  minister's,  and  then  almost  with  one  impulse  the  congregation  rose 
and  stared  while  the  three  dead  boys  came  marching  up  the  aisle,  Tom  in  the  lead, 
Joe  next,  and  Huck,  a  ruin  of  drooping  rags,  sneaking  sheepishly  in  the  rear ! 
They  had  been  hid  in  the  unused  gallery  listening  to  their  own  funeral  sermon  ! 

Aunt  Polly,  Mary  and  the  Harpers  threw  themselves  upon  their  restored 
ones,  smothered  them  with  kisses  and  poured  out  thanksgivings,  while  poor 
Huck  stood  abashed  and  uncomfortable,  not  knowing  exactly  what  to  do  or 
where  to  hide  from  so  many  unwelcoming  eyes.  He  wavered,  and  started  to 
slink  away,  but  Tom  seized  him  and  said  : 

"  Aunt  Polly,  it  ain't  fair.     Somebody's  got  to  be  glad  to  see  Huck." 


THE  POINT  IN  TOM'S  SECRET. 


"  And  so  they  shall.  I'm  glad  to  see  him,  poor  motherless  thing!"  And 
the  loving  attentions  Aunt  Polly  lavished  upon  him  were  the  one  thing  capable 
of  making  him  more  uncomfortable  than  he  was  before. 

Suddenly  the  minister  shouted  at  the  top  of  his  voice  :  "  Praise  God  from 
whom  all  blessings  flow — SING  ! — and  put  your  hearts  in  it !  " 

And  they  did.     Old  Hundred  swelled  up  with  a  triumphant  burst,  and  while 


TOM'S    PROUDEST    MOMENT. 

it  shook  the  rafters  Tom  Sawyer  the  Pirate  looked  around  upon  .the  envying 
juveniles  about  him  and  confessed  in  his  heart  that  this  was  the  proudest 
moment  of  his  life. 

As  the  "  sold  "  congregation  trooped  out  they  said  they  would  almost  be  wil- 
ling to  be  made  ridiculous  again  to  hear  Old  Hundred  sung  like  that  once  more. 

Tom  got  more  cuffs  and  kisses  that  day — according  to  Aunt  Polly's  varying 
moods — than  he  had  earned  before  in  a  year;  and  he  hardly  knew  which 
expressed  the  most  gratefulness  to  God  and  affection  for  himself. 


Eg 


was  Tom's  great  secret  —  the 
scheme  to  return  home  with  his  brother 
pirates  and  attend  their  own  funerals. 
They  had  paddled  over  to  the  Mis- 
souri shore  on  a  log,  at  dusk  on  Satur- 
day, landing  five  or  six  miles  below  the 
village  ;  they  had  slept  in  the  woods  at 
the  edge  of  the  town  till  nearly  daylight, 
and  had  then  crept  through  back  lanes 
and  alleys  and  finished  their  sleep  in 
the  gallery  of  the  church  among  a 
chaos  of  invalided  benches. 

At  breakfast,  Monday  morning,  Aunt 
Polly  and  Mary  were   very   loving  to 
Tom,  and  very  attentive   to  his  wants. 
There  was  an  unusual  amount  of  talk. 
In  the  course  of  it  Aunt  Polly  said : 
"  Well,  I  don't  say  it  wasn't  a  fine  joke,  Tom,  to  keep  everybody  suffering  'most 
a  week  so  you  boys  had  a  good  time,  but  it  is  a  pity  you  could  be  so  hard-hearted 

148 


TOM'S  FEELINGS  INVESTIGATED.  .  149 

as  to  let  me  suffer  so.  If  you  could  come  over  on  a  l6g  to  go  to  your  funeral,  you 
could  have  come  over  and  give  me  a  hint  some  way  that  you  warn't  dead,  but  only 
run  off." 

"Yes,  you  could  have  done  that,  Tom,"  said  Mary;  "and  I  believe  you  would 
if  you  had  thought  of  it." 

"  Would  you  Tom  ?  "  said  Aunt  Polly,  her  face  lighting  wistfully.  "  Say,  now, 
would  you,  if  you'd  thought  of  it?  " 

"I — well  I  don't  know.     'Twould  a  spoiled  everything." 

"Tom,  I  hoped  you  loved  me  that  much,"  said  Aunt  Polly,  with  a  grieved  tone 
that  discomforted  the  boy.  "  It  would  been  something  if  you'd  cared  enough  to 
think  of  it,  even  if  you  didn't  do  it." 

"  Now  auntie,  that  ain't  any  harm,"  pleaded  Mary;  "it's  only  Tom's  giddy  way 
- — he  is  always  in  such  a  rush  that  he  never  thinks  of  anything." 

"  More's  the  pity.  Sid  would  have  thought.  And  Sid  would  have  come  and 
done  it,  too.  Tom,  you'll  look  back,  some  day,  when  it's  too  late,  and  wish  you'd 
cared  a  little  more  for  me  when  it  would  have  cost  you  so  little." 

"  Now  auntie,  you  know  I  do  care  for  you,"  said  Tom. 

"  I'd  know  it  better  if  you  acted  more  like  it." 

.  "  I  wish  now  I'd  thought,"  said  Tom,  with  a  repentant  tone ;  "  but  I  dreamed 
about  you,  anyway.  That's  something,  ain't  it?  " 

"  It  ain't  much — a  cat  does  that  much — but  it's  better  than  nothing.  What  did 
you  dream  ?  " 

"  Why  Wednesday  night  I  dreamt  that  you  was  sitting  over  there  by  the  bed, 
and  Sid  was  sitting  by  the  wood-box,  and  Mary  next  to  him." 

"  Well,  so  we  did.  So  we  always  do.  I'm  glad  your  dreams  could  take  even 
that  much  trouble  about  us." 

"And  I  dreamt  that  Joe  Harper's  mother  was  here." 

"  Why,  she  was  here !     Did  you  dream  any  more  ?  " 

"  O,  lots.     But  it's  so  dim,  now." 

""  Well,,  try  to  recollect — can't  you  ?  " 

"Some  how  it  seems  to  me  that  the  wind — the  wind  blov/ed  the — the — " 

"  Try  harder,  Tom!     The  wind  did  blow  something.     Come!" 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


Tom  pressed  his  fingers  on  his  forehead  an  anxious  minute,  and  then  said 
"  I've  got  it  now !     I've  got  it  now !     It  blowed  the  candle  !  " 
"  Mercy  on  us !     Go  on,  Tom — go  on  !  " 


TOM    TRIES    TO 


"And  it  seems  to  me  that  you  said,    '  Why  I  believe  that  that  door  —  '  " 

"  Go  on,  Tom  !  " 

"  Just  let  me  study  a  moment  —  just  a  moment.  Oh,  yes  —  you  said  you  believed 
the  door  was  open." 

"As  I'm  a  sitting  here,  I  did  !     Didn't  I,  Mary  !     Goon!" 

"And  then  —  and  then  —  well  I  won't  be  certain,  but  it  seems  like  as  if  you  made 
Sid  go  and  —  and  —  " 

"  Well  ?     Well  ?     What  did  I  make  him  do,  Tom  ?     What  did  I  make  him  do  ?  " 

"You  made  him  —  you  —  O,  you  made  him  shut  it." 

"Well  for  the  land's  sake!  I  never  heard  the  beat  of  that  in  all  my  days! 
Don't  tell  me  there  ain't  anything  in  dreams,  any  more.  Sereny  Harper  shall 
know  of  this  before  I'm  an  hour  older.  I'd  like  to  see  her  get  around  this  with 
her  rubbage  'bout  superstition.  Go  on,  Tom  !  " 

"  Oh,  it's  all  getting  just  as  bright  as  day,  now.  Next  you  said  I  warn't  bad^ 
only  mischeevous  and  harum-scarum,  and  not  any  more  responsible  than  —  than  — 
I  think  it  was  a  colt,  or  something." 


TOM'S  WONDERFUL  DREAM.  151 

•  "  And  so  it  was  !     Well,  goodness  gracious !     Go  on,  Tom  !  " 

"And  then  you  began  to  cry." 

"  So  I  did.     So  I  did.     Not  the  first  time,  neither.     And  then —  " 

"Then  Mrs.  Harper  she  began  to  cry,  and  said  Joe  was  just  the  same  and  she 
wished  she  hadn't  whipped  him  for  taking  cream  when  she'd  throwed  it  out  her 
own  self —  " 

"  Tom  !  The  sperrit  was  upon  you  !  You  was  a  prophecying — that's  what  you 
was  doing  !  Land  alive,  go  on,  Tom  !  " 

"Then  Sid  he  said — he  said — " 

"I  don't  think  I  said  anything,"  said  Sid. 

"  Yes  you  did,  Sid,"  said  Mary. 

"  Shut  your  heads  and  let  Tom  go  on  !     What  did  he  say,  Tom  ?  " 

"  He  said — I  think  he  said  he  hoped  I  was  better  off  where  I  was  gone  to,  but  if 
I'd  been  better  sometimes —  " 

"  There,  d'you  hear  that !     It  was  his  very  words  !  " 

"  And  you  shut  him  up  sharp." 

"  I  lay  I  did  !  There  must  a  been  an  angel  there.  There  was  an  angel  there, 
somewheres !  " 

"  And  Mrs.  Harper  told  about  Joe  scaring  her  with  a  fire-cracker,  and  you  told 
about  Peter  and  the  Pain-killer —  " 

"  Just  as  true  as  I  live  !  " 

"  And  then  there  was  a  whole  lot  of  talk  'bout  dragging  the  river  for  us,  and 
'bout  having  the  funeral  Sunday,  and  then  you  and  old  Miss  Harper  hugged  and 
cried,  and  she  went." 

"It  happened  just  so!  It  happened  just  so,  as  sure  as  I'm  a  sitting  in  these 
very  tracks.  Tom  you  couldn't  told  it  more  like,  if  you'd  a  seen  it !  And  then 
what  ?  Go  on,  Tom  ?  " 

"  Then  I  thought  you  prayed  for  me — and  I  could  see  you  and  hear  every  word 
you  said.  And  you  went  to  bed,  and  I  was  so  sorry,  that  I  took  and  wrote  on  a 
piece  of  sycamore  bark,  '  We  ain't  dead — we  are  only  off  being  pirates,'  and  put  it 
on  the  table  by  the  candle  ;  and  then  you  looked  so  good,  laying  there  asleep,  that 
I  thought  I  went  and  leaned  over  and  kissed  you  qn  the  lips." 


TOM  SAWYER. 


"  Did  you,  Tom,  did  you !  I  just  forgive  you  everything  for  that !  "  And  she 
siezed  the  boy  in  a  crushing  embrace  that  made  him  feel  like  the  guiltiest  of 
villains. 

"It  was  very  kind,  even  though  it  was  only  a — dream,"  Sid  soliloquised  just 
audibly. 

"  Shut  up  Sid  !  A  body  does  just  the  same  in  a  dream  as  he'd  do  if  he  was 
awake.  Here's  a  big  Milum  apple  I've  been  saving  for  you  Tom,  if  you  was  ever 
found  again — now  go  'long  to  school.  I'm  thankful  to  the  good  God  and  Father 
of  us  all  I've  got  you  back,  that's  long-suffering  and  merciful  to  them  that  believe 
on  Him  and  keep  His  word,  though  goodness  knows  I'm  unworthy  of  it,  but  if 
only  the  worthy  ones  got  His  blessings  and  had  His  hand  to  help  them  over  the 
rough  places,  there's  few  enough  would  smile  here  or  ever  enter  into  His  rest 
when  the  long  night  comes.  Go  'long  Sid,  Mary,  Tom — take  yourselves  off — 

you've  hendered  me  long  enough." 

The  children,  left  for  school,  and  the  old 
lady  to  call  on  Mrs.  Harper  and  vanquish 
her  realism  with  Tom's  marvelous  dream. 
Sid  had  better  judgment  than  to  utter  the 
thought  that  was  in  his  mind  as  he  left  the 
house.  It  was  this  :  "  Pretty  thin — as  long 
a  dream  as  that,  without  any  mistakes  in  it !  " 
What  a  hero  Tom  "was  become,  now ! 
He  did  not  go  skipping  and  prancing,  but 
moved  with  a  dignified  swagger  as  became  a 
pirate  who  felt  that  the  public  eye  was  on 
him.  And  indeed  it  was ;  he  tried  not  to 
seem  to  see  the  looks  or  hear  the  remarks 
as  he  passed  along,  but  they  were  food  and 
drink  to  him.  Smaller  boys  than  himself 
THK  HERO.  flocked  at  his  heels,  as  proud  to  be  seen 

with  him,  and  tolerated  by  him,  as  if  he   had  been  the  drummer  at  the  head  of 
a  procession  or  the  elephant  leading  a  menagerie  into  town.   '  Boys  of  his  own 


BECKY  THATCHER  OVERSHADOWED.  153 

.size  pretended  not  to  know  he  had  been  away  at  all;  but  they  were  consuming 
with  envy,  nevertheless.  They  would  have  given  anything  to  have  that  swarthy 
sun-tanned  skin  of  his,  and  his  glittering  notoriety ;  and  Tom  would  not  have 
parted  with  either  for  a  circus. 

At  school  the  children  made  so  much  of  him  and  of  Joe,  and  delivered  such 
.eloquent  admiration  from  their  eyes,  that  the  two  heroes  were  not  long  in  becoming 
insufferably  ""stuck-up."  They  began  to  tell  their  adventures  to  hungry  listeners 
— but  they  only  began;  it  was  not  a  thing  likely  to  have  an  end,  with  imaginations 
like  theirs  to  furnish  material.  Anfl  finally,  when  they  got  out  their  pipes  and 
went  serenely  puffing  around,  the  very  summit  of  glory  was  reached. 

Tom  decided  that  he  could  be  independent  of  Becky  Thatcher  now.  Glory 
was  sufficient.  He  would  live  for  glory.  Now  that  he  was  distinguished,  maybe 
.she  would  be  wanting  to  "  make  up."  Well,  let  her — she  should  see  that  he  could 
be  as  indifferent  as  some  other  people.  Presently  she  arrived.  Tom  pretended 
not  to  see  her.  He  moved  away  and  joined  a  group  of  boys  and  g^rls  and  began 
to  talk.  Soon  he  observed  that  she  was  tripping  gayly  back  and  forth  with  flushed 
face  and  dancing  eyes,  pretending  to  be  busy  chasing  school-mates,  and  screaming 
with  laughter  when  she  made  a  capture ;  but  he  noticed  that  she  always  made  her 
captures  in  his  vicinity,  and  that  she  seemed  to  cast  a  conscious  eye  in  his  direction 
at  such  times,  too.  It  gratified  all  the  vicious  vanity  that  was  in  him ;  and  so, 
instead  of  winning  him  it  only  "  set  him  up  "  the  more  and  made  him  the  more 
diligent  to  avoid  betraying  that  he  knew  she  was  about.  Presently  she  gave  over 
skylarking,  and  moved  irresolutely  about,  sighing  once  or  twice  and  glancing 
furtively  and  wistfully  toward  Tom.  -Then  she  observed  that  now  Tom  was  talk- 
ing more  particularly  to  Amy  Lawrence  than  to  any  one  else.  She  felt  a  sharp 
pang  and  grew  disturbed  and  uneasy  at  once.  She  tried  to  go  away,  but  her 
feet  were  treacherous,  and  carried  her  to  the  group  instead.  She  said  to  a  girl 
almost  at  Tom's  elbow — with  sham  vivacity  : 

"Why  Mary  Austin !    you  bad  girl,  why  didn't  you  come  to  Sunday-school  ?  " 

"I  did  come — didn't  you  see  me  ?  " 

"  Why  no  !     Did  you  ?     Where  did  you  sit  ? 

""I  was  in  Miss  Peter's  class,  where  I  always  go.     I  sawj>w*." 


154 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


"  Did  you  ?  Why  it's  funny  I  didn't  see  you.  I  wanted  to  tell  you  about  the- 
pic-nic." 

"  O,  that's  jolly.     Who's  going  to  give  it  ?  " 
"  My  ma's  going  to  let  me  have  one." 
"O,  goody;  I  hope  she'll  let  me  come." 

"  Well  she  will.  The  pic-nic's  for  me.  She'll  let  anybody  come  that  I  want,, 
and  I  want  you." 

"  That's  ever  so  nice.     When  is  it  going  to  be?  " 
"  By  and  by.     Maybe  about  vacation." 

"  O,  won't  it  be  fun  !     You  going  to   have 
all  the  girls  and  boys  ?  " 

"  Yes,  every  one  that's  friends  to  me — 
or  wants  to  be;"  and  she  glanced  ever  so 
furtively  at  Tom,  but  he  talked  right  along 
to  Amy  Lawrence  about  the  terrible  storm 
on  the  island,  and  how  the  lightning  tore 
the  great  sycamore  tree  "all  to  flinders" 
while  he  was  "  standing  within  three  feet  of 
it." 

"  O,  may  I  come  ?  "  said  Gracie  Miller. 
"Yes." 

"And  me  ?  "  said  Sally  Rogers. 
"Yes." 

"  And  me,  too  ?  "  said  Susy  Harper.  "  And 
Joe?" 

"Yes." 

And  so  on,  with  clapping  of  joyful  hands  till  all  the  group  had  begged  for 
invitations  but  Tom  and  Amy.  Then  Tom  turned  coolly  away,  still  talking,  and 
took  Amy  with  him.  Becky's  lips  trembled  and  the  tears  came  to  her  eyes;  she 
hid  these  signs  with  a  forced  gayety  and  went  on  chattering,  but  the  life  had  gone 
out  of  the  pic-nic,  now,  and  out  of  everything  else ;  she  got  away  as  soon  as  she 
could  and  hid  herself  and  had  what  her  sex  call  "a  good  cry."  Then  she  sat 


A    FLIRTATION. 


TOM  BECOMES  JEALOUS. 


I5S 


moody,  with  wounded  pride  till  the  bell  rang.  She  roused  up,  now,  with  a  vin- 
dictive cast  in  her  eye,  and  gave  her  plaited  tails  a  shake  and  said  she  knew 
what  shed  do. 

At  recess  Tom  continued  his  flirtation  with  Amy  with  jubilant  self-satisfaction. 
And  he  kept  drifting  about  to  find  Becky  and  lacerate  her  with  the  performance. 
At  last  he  spied  her,  but  there  was  a 
sudden  falling  of  his  mercury.  She  was 
sitting  cosily  on  a  little  bench  behind  the 
school-house  looking  at  a  picture  book 
with  Alfred  Temple — and  so  absorbed 
were  they,  and  their  heads  so  close  to- 
gether over  the  book  that  they  did  not 
seem  to  be  conscious  of  anything  in  the 
world  besides.  Jealousy  ran  red  hot 
through  Tom's  veins.  He  began  to  hate 
himself  for  throwing  away  the  chance 
Becky  had  offered  for  a  reconciliation. 
He  called  himself  a  fool,  and  all  the  hard 
names  he  could  think  of.  He  wanted  to 
cry  with  vexation.  Amy  chatted  happily 
along,  as  they  walked,  for  her  heart  was 
singing,  but  Tom's  tongue  had  lost  its 
function.  He  did  not  hear  what  Amy  BECKY  RETALIATES. 

was  saying,  and  whenever  she  paused  expectantly  he  could  only  stammer  an 
awkward  assent,  which  was  as  often  misplaced  as  otherwise.  He  kept  drifting  to 
the  rear  of  the  school-house,  again  and  again,  to  sear  his  eye-balls  with  the  hate- 
ful spectacle  there.  He  could  not  help  it.  And  it  maddened  him.  to  see,  as  he 
thought  he  saw,  that  Becky  Thatcher  never  once  suspected  that  he  was  even  in 
the  land  of  the  living.  But  she  did  see,  nevertheless ;  and  she  knew  she  was. 
winning  her  fight,  too,  and  was  glad  to  see  him  suffer  as  she  had  suffered. 

Amy's  happy  prattle  became  intolerable.     Tom  hinted  at  things  he  had  to  attend 
to;  things  that  must  be   done;  and  time  was   fleeting.     But  in  vain — the  girl 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


chirped  on.  Tom  thought,  "  O  hang  her,  ain't  I  ever  going  to  get  rid  of  her  ?" 
At  last  he  must  be  attending  to  those  things — and  she  said  artlessly  that  she  would 
be  "around  "  when  school  let  out.  And.he  hastened  away,  hating  her  for  it. 

"Any  other  boy!"  Tom  thought,  grating  his  teeth.  "Any  boy  in  the  whole 
town  but  that  Saint  Louis  smarty  that  thinks  he  dresses  so  fine  and  is  aristocracy ! 
O,  all  right,  I  licked  you  the  first  day  you  ever  saw  this  town,  mister,  and  I'll  lick 
you  again  !  You  just  wait  till  I  catch  you  out !  I'll  just  take  and —  " 

And  he  went  through  the  motions  of  thrashing  an  imaginary  boy — pummeling 
the  air,  and  kicking  and  gouging.  "  Oh,  you  do,  do  you  ?  You  holler  'nough,  do 
you?  Now,  then,  let  that  learn  you!"  And  so  the  imaginary  flogging  was 
finished  to  his  satisfaction. 

Tom  fled  home   at  noon.     His  conscience  could  not  endure  any  more  of  Amy's 

grateful  happiness,  and  his  jealousy  could 
bear  no  more  of  the  other  distress.  Becky 
resumed  her  picture-inspections  with  Alfred, 
but  as  the  minutes  dragged  along  and  no 
Tom  came  to  suffer,  her  triumph  began  to 
cloud  and  she  lost  interest ;  gravity  and 
absent-mindedness  followed,  and  then  mel- 
ancholy; two  or  three  times  she  pricked 
up  her  ear  at  a  footstep,  but  it  was  a 
false  hope;  no  Tom  came.  At  last  she 
grew  entirely  miserable  and  wished  she 
hadn't  carried  it  so  far.  When  poor  Alfred, 
seeing  that  he  was  losing  her,  he  did  not 
know  how,  and  kept  exclaiming :  "  O  here's 
a  jolly  one  !  look  at  this  !  "  she  lost  pa- 
tience at  last,  and  said,  "  Oh,  don't  bother 
me  !  I  don't  care  for  them !  "  and  burst 
into  tears,  and  got  up  and  walked  away. 
Alfred  dropped  alongside  and  was  going  to  try  to  comfort  her,  but  she  said  • 
<c  Go  away  and  leave  me  alone,  can't  you  !  I  hate  you  ! 


A   SUDDEX   FROST. 


BLA  CK'  RE  VENGE. 


T57 


So  the  boy  halted,  wondering  what  he  could  have  done — for  she  had  said  she 
would  look  at  pictures  all  through  the  nooning — and  she  walked  on,  crying. 
Then  Alfred  went  musing  into  the  deserted  school-house.  He  was  humiliated 
and  angry.  He  easily  guessed  his  way  to  the  truth — the  girl  had  simply  made  a 
convenience  of  him  to  vent  her  spite  upon  Tom  Sawyer.  He  was  far  from  hating 
Tom  the  less  when  this  thought  occurred 
to  him.  He  wished  there  was  some  way  to 
get  that  boy  into  trouble  without  much  risk 
to  himself.  Tom's  spelling  book  fell  under 
his  eye.  Here  was  his  opportunity.  He 
gratefully  opened  to  the  lesson  for  the 
afternoon  and  poured  ink  upon  the  page. 

Becky,  glancing  in  at  a  window  behind 
him  at  the  moment,  saw  the  act,  and 
moved  on,  without  discovering  herself. 
She  started  homeward,  now,  intending  to 
find  Tom  and  tell  .him ;  Tom  would  be 
thankful  and  their  troubles  would  be 
healed.  Before  she  was  half  way  home, 
however,  she  had  changed  her  mind.  The 
thought  of  Tom's  treatment  of  her  when 
she  was  talking  about  her  pic-nic  came 
scorching  back  and  filled  her  with  shame.  She  resolved  to  let  him  get  whipped 
on  the  damaged  spelling-book's  account,  and  to  hate  him  forever,  into  the 
bargain. 


arrived  at  home  in  a  dreary 
mood,  and  the  first  thing  his  aunt 
said  to  him  showed  him  that  he  had 
brought  his  sonrows  to  an  unprom- 
ising market : 

"  Tom,  I've  a  notion  to  skin  you 
alive !  " 

"  Auntie,  \vhat  have  I  done  ?  " 
"  Well,  you've  done  enough.  Here 
I  go  over  to  Sereny  Harper,  like  an 
old  softy,  expecting  I'm  going  to 
make  her  believe  all  that  rubbage 
about  that  dream,  when  lo  and  be- 
hold you  she'd  found  out  from  Joe 
that  you  was  over  here  and  heard  all 
the  talk  we  had  that  night.  Tom  I 

don't  know  what  is  to  become  of  a 

boy  that  will  act  like  that.     It  makes  me  feel  so  bad  to  think  you  could  let  me 
go  to  Sereny  Harper  and  make  such  a  fool  of  myself  and  never  say  a  word." 


TOM  TELLS  THE  TRUTH.  159 

This  was  a  new  aspect  of  the  thing.  His  smartness  of  the  morning  had 
seeme.d  to  Tom  a  good  joke  before,  and  very  ingenious.  It  merely  looked  mean 
and  shabby  now.  He  hung  his  head  and  could  not  think  of  anything  to  say 
for  a  moment.  Then  he  said  : 

"Auntie,  I  wish  I  hadn't  done  it — but  I  didn't  think." 

"  O,  child  you  never  think.  You  never  think  of  anything  but  your  own 
selfishness.  You  could  think  to  come  all  the  way  over  here  from  Jackson's 
Island  in  the  night  to  laugh  at  our  troubles,  and  you  could  think  to  fool  me 
with  a  lie  about  a  dream  ;  but  you  couldn't  ever  think  to  pity  us  and  save  us 
from  sorrow." 

"Auntie,  I  know  now  it  was  mean,  but  I  didn't  mean  to  be  mean.  I  didn't, 
honest.  And  besides  I  didn't  come  over  here  to  laugh  at  you  that  night." 

"  What  did  you  come  for,  then  ?  " 

"  It  was  to  tell  you  not  to  be  uneasy  about  us,  because  we  hadn't  got 
drowned." 

"  Tom,  Tom,  I  would  be  the  thankfullest  soul  in  this  world  if  I  could 
believe  you  ever  had  as  good  a  thought  as  that,  but  you  know  you  never  did — 
and  I  know  it,  Tom." 

"  Indeed  and  'deed  I  did,  auntie — I  wish  I  may  never  stir  if  I  didn't." 

"  O,  Tom,  don't  lie — don't  do  it.  It  only  makes  things  a  hundred  times 
worse." 

"  It  ain't  a  lie,  auntie,  it's  the  truth.  I  wanted  to  keep  you  from  grieving — 
that  was  all  that  made  me  come." 

"  I'd  give  the  whole  world  to  believe  that — it  would  cover  up  a  power  of  sins 
Tom.  I'd  'most  be  glad  you'd  run  off  and  acted  so  bad.  But  it  aint  reason- 
able ;  because,  why  didn't  you  tell  me,  child  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  see,  auntie,  when  you  got  to  talking  about  the  funeral,  I  just  got 
all  full  of  the  idea  of  our.  coming  and  hiding  in  the  church,  and  I  couldn't 
somehow  bear  to  spoil  it.  So  I  just  put  the  bark  back  in  my  pocket  and  kept 
mum." 

"  What  bark  ?  "  • 

"  The  bark  I  had  wrote  on  to  tell  you  we'd  gone  pirating.  I  wish,  now, 
you'd  waked  up  when  I  kissed  you — I  do,  honest." 


i6o 


TOM  SAWYER. 


The  hard  lines  in  his  aunt's  face  relaxed  and  a  sudden  tenderness  dawned 
in  her  eyes. 

"Did you  kiss  me,  Tom?" 
"Why  yes  I  did." 
"  Are  you  sure  you  did,  Tom  ? " 
"  Why  yes  I  did,  auntie — certain  sure." 
"What  did  you  kiss  me  for,  Tom ?" 

"  Because  I  loved  you  so,  and  you  laid  there  moaning  and  I  was  so  sorry." 
The  words  sounded  like  truth.      The  old  lady  could  not  hide  a  tremor  in  her 
voice  when  she  said : 

"Kiss  me  again,  Tom  ! — and  be  off  with  you  to  school,  now,  and  don't  bother 

me  any  more." 

The  moment  he  was  gone,  she  ran  to  a 
closet  and  got  out  the  ruin  of  a  jacket 
which  Tom  had  gone  pirating  in.  Then 
she  stopped,  with  it  in  her  hand,  and  said 
to  herself: 

"  No,  I  don't  dare.  Poor  boy,  I  reckon 
he's  lied  about  it — but  it's  a  blessed, 
blessed  lie,  there's  such  comfort  come 
from  it.  I  hope  the  Lord — I  knmv  the 
Lord  will  forgive  him,  because  it  was  such 
goodheartedness  in  him  to  tell  it.  But  I 
don't  want  to  find  out  it's  a  lie.  I  won't 
look." 

She  put  the  jacket  away,  and  stood  by 
musing  a  minute.  Twice  she  put  out  her 
hand  to  take  the  garment  again,  and  twice 
she  refrained.  Once  more  she  ventured,, 
and  this  time  she  fortified  herself  with  the  thought:  "It's  a  good  lie — it's  a 
good  lie — I  won't  let  it  grieve  me."  So  she  sought  the  jacket  pocket.  A 
moment  later  she  was  reading  Tom's  piece  of  bark  through  flowing  tears  and 
saying:  "  I  could  forgive  the  boy,  now,  if  he'd  committed  a  million  sins  !  " 


TOM    JUSTIFIED. 


was  something  about  Aunt  Polly's 
manner,  when  she  kissed  Tom, 
that  swept  away  his  low  spirits  and  made 
him  light-hearted  and  happy  again.  He 
started  to  school  and  had  the  luck  of 
coming  upon  Becky  Thatcher  at  the 
head  of  Meadow  Lane.  His  mood  al- 
ways determined  his  manner.  Without 
a  moment's  hesitation  he  ran  to  her  and 
said  : 

"  I  acted  mighty  mean  to-day,  Becky, 
and  I'm  so  sorry.  I  won't  ever,  ever  do 
that  way  again,  as  long  as  ever  I  live — 
please  make  up,  won't  you?  " 

The  girl  stopped  and  looked  him  scorn- 
fully in  the  face : 

"  I'll  thank  you  to  keep  yourself  to  yourself,  Mr.  Thomas  Sawyer.     I'll  never 
speak  to  you  again." 

ii  161 


162  TOM  SAWYER. 


She  tossed  her  head  and  passed  on.  Tom  was  so  stunned  that  he  had  not 
even  presence  of  mind  enough  to  say  "  Who  cares,  Miss  Smarty  ?  "  until  the  right 
time  to  say  it  had  gone  by.  So  he  said  nothing.  But  he  was  in  a  fine  rage, 
nevertheless.  He  moped  into  the  school-yard  wishing  she  were  a  boy,  and 
imagining  how  he  would  trounce  her  if  she  were.  He  presently  encountered  her 
and  delivered  a  stinging  remark  as  he  passed.  She  hurled  one  in  return,  and  the 
angry  breach  was  complete.  It  seemed  to  Becky,  in  her  hot  resentment,  that  she 
could  hardly  wait  for  school  to  "  take  in,"  she  was  so  impatient  to  see  Tom  flogged 
for  the  injured  spelling-book.  If  she  had  had  any  lingering  notion  of  exposing 
Alfred  Temple,  Tom's  offensive  fling  had  driven  it  entirely  away. 

Poor  girl,  she  did  not  know  how  fast  she  was  Hearing  trouble  herself.  The 
master,  Mr.  Dobbins,  had  reached  middle  age  with  an  unsatisfied  ambition.  The 
darling  of  his  desires  was,  to  be  a  doctor,  but  poverty  had  decreed  that  he  should 
be  nothing  higher  than  a  village  schoolmaster.  Every  day  he  took  a  mysterious 
book  out  of  his  desk  and  absorbed  himself  in  it  at  times  when  no  classes  were 
reciting.  He  kept  that  book  under  lock  and  key.  There  was  not  an  urchin  in 
school  but  was  perishing  to  have  a  glimpse  of  it,  but  the  chance  never  came. 
Every  boy  and  girl  had  a  theory  about  the  nature  of  that  book ;  but  no  two  theo- 
ries were  alike,  and  there  was  no  way  of  getting  at  the  facts  in  the  case.  Now,  as 
Becky  was  passing  by  the  desk,  which  stood  near  the  door,  she  noticed  that  the 
key  was  in  the  lock !  It  was  a  precious  moment.  She  glanced  around ;  found 
herself  alone,  and  the  next  instant  she  had  the  book  in  her  hands.  The  title-page 
— Professor  somebody's  "  Anatomy  " — carried  no  information  to  her  mind ;  so  she 
began  to  turn  the  leaves.  She  came  at  once  upon  a  handsomely  engraved  and 
colored  frontispiece — a  human  figure,  stark  naked.  At  that  moment  a  shadow 
fell  on  the  page  and  Tom  Sawyer  stepped  in  at  the  door,  and  caught  a  glimpse  of 
the  picture.  Becky  snatched  at  the  book  to  close  it,  and  had  the  hard  luck  to  tear 
the  pictured  page  half  down  the  middle.  She  thrust  the  volume  into  the  desk, 
turned  the  key,  and  burst  out  crying  with  shame  and  vexation. 

"Tom  Sawyer,  you  are  just  as  mean  as  you  can  be,  to  sneak  up  on  a  person  and 
look  at  what  they're  looking  at." 

"  How  could  /  know  you  was  looking  at  anything?  " 


BECKY  IN  A  DILEMMA. 


163 


"  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself  Tom  Sawyer ;  you  know  you're  going  to 
tell  on  me,  and  O,  what  shall  I  do,  what  shall  I  do !  I'll  be  whipped,  and  I  never 
was  whipped  in  school." 

Then  she  stamped  her  little  foot  and 
said : 

"  Be  so  mean  if  you  want  to  !  /  know 
something  that's  going  to  happen.  You 
just  wait  and  you'll  see  !  Hateful,  hateful, 
hateful !  " — and  she  flung  out  of  the  house 
with  a  new  explosion  of  crying. 

Tom  stood  still,  rather  flustered  by  this 
onslaught.  Presently  he  said  to  himself: 

"  What  a  curious  kind  of  a  fool  a  girl  is. 
Never  been  licked  in  school !  Shucks. 
What's  a  licking!  That's  just  like  a  girl 
— they're  so  thin-skinned  and  chicken 
hearted.  Well,  of  course  /  ain't  going  to 
tell  old  Dobbins  on  this  little  fool,  because 
there's  other  ways  of  getting  even  on  her,  CAUGHT  IN  THB  ACT. 

that  ain't  so  mean ;  but  what  of  it  ?  Old  Dobbins  will  ask  who  it  was  tore  his 
book.  Nobody'll  answer.  Then  he'll  do  just  the  way  he  always  does — ask  first 
one(and  then  t'other,  and  when  he  comes  to  the  right  girl  he'll  know  it,  without 
any  telling.  Girl's  faces  always  tell  on  them.  They  ain't  got  any  back-bone. 
She'll  get  licked.  Well,  it's  a  kind  of  a  tight  place  for  Becky  Thatcher,  because 
there  ain't  any  way  out  of  it."  Tom  conned  the  thing  a  moment  longer  and  then 
added  :  "  All  right,  though ;  she'd  like  to  see  me  in  just  such  a  fix — let  her  sweat 
it  out !  " 

Tom  joined  the  mob  of  skylarking  scholars  outside.  In  a  few  moments  the 
master  arrived  and  school  "  took  in."  Tom  did  not  feel  a  strong  interest  in  his 
studies.  Every  time  he  stole  a  glance  at  the  girls'  side  of  the  room  Becky's  face 
troubled  him.  Considering  all  things,  he  did  not  want  to  pity  her,  and  yet  it  was 
all  he  could  do  to  help  it.  He  could  get  up  no  exultation  that  was  really  worthy 


164  TOM  SA  WYER. 


the  name.  Presently  the  spelling-book  discovery  was  made,  and  Tom's  mind 
was  entirely  full  of  his  own  matters  for  a  while  after  that.  Becky  roused  up 
from  her  lethargy  of  distress  and  showed  good  interest  in  the  proceedings.  She 
did  not  expect  that  Tom  could  get  out  of  his  trouble  by  denying  that  he  spilt  the 
ink  on  the  book  himself;  and  she  was  right.  The  denial  only  seemed  to  make 
the  thing  worse  for  Tom.  Becky  supposed  she  would  be  glad  of  that,  and  she 
tried  to  believe  she  was  glad  of  it,  but  she  found  she  was  not  certain.  When  the 
worst  came  to  the  worst,  she  had  an  impulse  to  get  up  and  tell  on  Alfred  Temple, 
but  she  made  an  effort  and  forced  herself  to.  keep  still — because,  said  she  to  her- 
self, "  he'll  tell  about  me  tearing  the  picture  sure.  I  wouldn't  say  a  word,  not 
to  save  his  life  !  " 

Tom  took  his  whipping  and  went  back  to  his  seat  not  at  all  broken-hearted, 
for  he  thought  it  was  possible  that  he  had  unknowingly  upset  the  ink  on  the  spell- 
.  ing-book  himself,  in  some  skylarking  bout — he  had  denied  it  for  form's  sake  and 
because  it  was  custom,  and  had  stuck  to  the  denial  from  principle. 

A  whole  hour  drifted  by,  the  master  sat  'nodding  in  his  throne,  the  air  was 
drowsy  with  the  hum  of  study.  By  and  by,  Mr.  Dobbins  straightened  himself  up, 
yawned,  then  unlocked  his  desk,  and  reached  for  his  book,  but  seemed  undecided 
whether  to  take  it  out  or  leave  it.  Most  of  the  pupils  glanced  up  languidly,  but 
there  were  two  among  them  that  watched  his  movements  with  intent  eyes.  Mr. 
Dobbins  fingered  his  book  absently  for  a  while,  then  took  it  out  and  settled  him- 
self in  his  chair  to  read  !  Tom  shot  a  glance  at  Becky.  He  had  seen  a  hunted 
and  helpless  rabbit  look  as  she  did,  with  a  gun  leveled  at  its  head.  Instantly  he 
forgot  his  quarrel  with  her.  Quick — something  must  be  done  !  done  in  a  flash, 
too!  But  the  very  imminence  of  the  emergency  paralyzed  his  invention.  Good! 
— he  had  an  inspiration  !  He  would  run  and  snatch  the  book,  spring  through  the 
door  and  fly.  But  his  resolution  shook  for  one  little  instant,  and  the  chance  was 
lost — the  master  opened  the  volume.  If  Tom  only  had  the  wasted  opportun  ity  back 
again  !  Too  late.  There  was  no  help  for  Becky  now,  he  said.  The  next  moment 
the  master  faced  the  school.  Every  eye  sunk  under  his  gaze.  There  was  that  in 
it  which  smote  even  the  innocent  with  fear.  There  was  silence  while  one  might 
count  ten,  the  master  was  gathering  his  wrath.  Then  he  spoke : 


TOM'S  NOBILITY  ASSERTS  ITSELF. 


"  Who  tore  this-  book  ?  " 

There  was  not  a  sound.     One  could  have  heard  a  pin  drop.     The  stillness  con- 
tinued ;  the  master  searched  face  after  face  for  signs  of  guilt. 
"  Benjamin  Rogers,  did  you  tear  this  hook?  " 
A  denial.     Another  pause. 
"  Joseph  Harper,  did  you  ?  " 

Another  denial.     Tom's  uneasiness  grew  more  and  more  intense  under  the  slow 

torture  of  these  proceedings.     The  master 
scanned   the   ranks   of    boys — considered 
a  while,  then  turned  to  the  girls : 
"  Amy  Lawrence  ?  " 
A  shake  of  the  head. 
"  Gracie  Miller  ?  " 
The  same  sign. 

"  Susan  Harper,  did  you  do  this  ?  " 
Another  negative.     The  next  girl   was 
Becky    Thatcher.      Tom    was    trembling 
from  head  to  foot  with  excitement  and  a 
sense  of  the  hopelessness  of  the  situation. 
"  Rebecca  Thatcher,"  [Tom  glanced  at 
her  face— it  was  white  with  terror,]—"  did 
you  tear — no,  look  me  in  the  face  " — [her 
hands   rose   in    appeal] — "  did   you   tear 
this  book-?  " 

A  thought  shot  like  lightning  through  Tom's  brain.  He  sprang  to  his  feet 
and  shouted — %'  /  done  it !  " 

The  school  stared  in  perplexity  at  this-  incredible  folly.  Tom  stood  a  moment, 
to  gather  his  dismembered  faculties;  and  when  he  stepped  forward  to  go  to  his 
punishment  the  surprise,  the  gratitude,  the  adoration  that  shone  upon  him  out  of 
poor  Becky's  eyes  seemed  pay  enough  for  a  hundred  floggings.  Inspired  by  the 
splendor  of  his  own  act,  he  took  without  an  outcry  the  most  merciless  flaying  that 
even  Mr.  Dobbins  had  ever  administered ;  and  also  received  with  indifference  the 


TOM    ASTONISHES  THE    SCHOOL. 


i66 


TOM  SAWYER. 


added  cruelty  of  a  command  to  remain  two  hours  after  school  should  be  dismissed 
— for  he  knew  who  would  wait  for  him  outside  till  his  captivity  was  done,  and  not 
count  the  tedious  time  as  loss,  either. 

Tom  went  to  bed  that  night  planning  vengeance  against  Alfred  Temple  ;  for  with 
shame  and  repentance  Becky  had  told  him  all,  not  forgetting  her  own  treachery; 
but  even  the  longing  for  vengeance  had  to  give  way,  soon,  to  pleasanter  musings, 
and  he  fell  asleep  at  last,  with  Becky's  latest  words  lingering  dreamily  in  his  ear — 

"  Tom,  how  could  you  be  so  noble  !  " 


TOM. 


was  approaching.  The 
schoolmaster,  always  severe,  grew 
severer  and  more  exacting  than 
ever,  for  he  wanted  the  school  to 
make  a  good  showing  on  "  Ex- 
amination "  day.  His  rod  and  his 
ferule  were  seldom  idle  now — at 
least  among  the  smaller  pupils. 
Only  the  biggest  boys,  and  young 
ladies  of  eighteen  and  twenty 
escaped  lashing.  Mr.  Dobbins's 
lashings  were  very  vigorous  ones, 
too ;  for  although  he  carried,  under 
his  wig,  a  perfectly  bald  and  shiny 
head,  he  had  only  reached  middle 
age  and  there  was  no  sign  of 
feebleness  in  his  muscle.  As  the 
great  day  approached,  all  the 


tyranny  that  was  in  him  came  to  the  surface;  he  seemed  to  take  a  vindictive, 
pleasure  in  punishing  the  least  shortcomings.     The  consequence  was,  that  the 

167 


i68 


TOM  SAWYER. 


smaller  boys  spent  their  days  in  terror  and  suffering  and  their  nights  in  plot- 
ting revenge.  They  threw  away  no  opportunity  to  do  the  master  a  mischief. 
But  he  kept  ahead  all  the  time.  The  retribution  that  followed  every  vengeful 
success  was  so  sweeping  and  majestic  that  the  boys  always  retired  from  the 
field  badly  worsted.  At  last  they  conspired  together  and  hit  upon  a  plan  that 
promised  a  dazzling  victory.  They*  swore-in  the  sign-painter's  boy,  told  him 
the  scheme,  and  asked  his  help.  He  had  his  own  reasons  for  being  delighted, 
for  the  master  boarded  in  his  father's  family  and  had  given  the  boy  ample 


EXAMINATION    EVENING. 


cause  to  hate  him.  The  master's  wife  would  go  on  a  visit  to  the  country  in  a 
few  days,  and  there  would  be  nothing  to  interfere  with  the  plan ;  the  master 
always  prepared  himself  for  great  occasions  by  getting  pretty  well  fuddled,  and 
the  sign-painter's  boy  said  that  when  the  dominie  had  reached  the  proper  con- 
dition on  Examination  Evening  he  would  "  manage  the  thing  "  while  he  napped 


YOUTHFUL  ELOQUENCE.  169 


in  his  chair ;  then  he  would  have  him  awakened  at  the  right  time  and  hurried 
away  to  school. 

In  the  fullness  of  time  the  interesting  occasion  arrived.  At  eight  in  the 
evening  the  schoolhouse  was  brilliantly  lighted,  and  adorned  with  wreaths  and 
festoons  of  foliage  and  flowers.  The  master  sat  throned  in  his  great  chair 
upon  a  raised  platform,  with  his  blackboard  behind  him.  He  was  looking 
tolerably  mellow.  Three  rows  of  benches  on  each  side  and  six  rows  in  front 
of  him  were  occupied  by  the  dignitaries  of  the  town  and  by  the  parents  of  the 
pupils.  To  his  left,  back  of  the  rows  of  citizens,  was  a  spacious  temporary  plat- 
form upon  which  were  seated  the  scholars  who  were  to  take  part  in  the  exer- 
cises of  the  evening;,  rows  of  small  boys,  washed  and  dressed  to  an  intolerable 
state  of  discomfort ;  rows  of  gawky  big  boys  ;  snow-banks  of  girls  and  young 
ladies  clad  in  lawn  and  muslin  and  conspiciously  conscious  of  their  bare  arms, 
their  grandmothers'  ancient  trinkets,  their  bits  of  pink  and  blue  ribbon  and  the 
flowers  in  their  hair.  All  the  rest  of  the  house  was  filled  with  non-partici- 
pating scholars. 

The  exercises  began.  A  very  little  boy  stood  up  and  sheepishly  recited, 
"  You'd  scarce  expect  one  of  my  age  to  speak  in  public  on  the  stage,  etc  " — 
accompanying  himself  with  the  painfully  exact  and  spasmodic  gestures  which 
a  machine  might  have  used — supposing  the  machine  to  be  a  trifle  out  of  order. 
But  he  got  through  safely,  though  cruelly  scared,  and  got  a  fine  round  of 
applause  when  he  made  his  manufactured  bow  and  retired. 

A  little  shame-faced  girl  lisped  "  Mary  had  a  little  lamb,  etc.,"  performed  a 
compassion-inspiring  curtsy,  got  her  meed  of  applause,  and  sat  down  flushed 
and  happy. 

Tom  Sawyer  stepped  forward  with  conceited  confidence  and  soared  into  the 
unquenchable  and  indestructible  "  Give  me  liberty  or  give  me  death  "  speech, 
with  fine  fury  and  frantic  gesticulation,  and  broke  down  in  the  middle  of  it. 
A  ghastly  stage-fright  siezed  him,  his  legs  quaked  under  him  and  he  was  like 
to  choke.  True,  he  had  the  manifest  sympathy  of  the  house — but  he  had  the 
house's  silence,  too,  which  was  even  worse  than  its  sympathy.  The  master 
frowned,  and  this  completed  the  disaster.  Tom  struggled  a  while  and  then 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


retired,  utterly  defeated.     There  was  a  weak  attempt  at  applause,  but  it  died 
early. 

"The  Boy  stood  on  the  Burning  Deck"  followed;  also  "The  Assyrian  Came 
Down,"  and  other  declamatory  gems.  Then  there  were  reading  exercises,  and 
a  spelling  fight.  The  meager  Latin  class  recited  with  honor.  The  prime 


OX    EXHIBITION. 


feature  of  the  evening  was  in  order,  now — original  "compositions"  by  the 
young  ladies.  Each  in  her  turn  stepped  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  platform, 
cleared  her  throat,  held  up  her  manuscript  (tied  with  dainty  ribbon),  and  pro- 
ceeded to  read,  with  labored  attention  to  "  expression  "  and  punctuation.  The 
themes  were  the  same  that  had  been  illuminated  upon  similar  occasions  by 
their  mothers  before  them,  their  grandmothers,  and  doubtless  all  their  ances- 
tors in  the  female  line  clear  back  to  the  Crusades.  "  Friendship  "  was  one; 
"  Memories  of  Other  Days ;  "  "  Religion  in  History  ;  "  "  Dream  Land  ;  "  "  The 
Advantages  of  Culture;"  "Forms  of  Political  Government  Compared  and 


COMPOSITIONS  BY  THE   YOUNG  LADIES.  171 

Contrasted;"  "Melancholy;"  "Filial  Love;"  "  Heart    Longings,"  etc.,  etc. 

A  prevalent  feature  in  these  compositions  was  a  nursed  and  petted  melan- 
choly ;  another  was  a  wasteful  and  opulent  gush  of  "  fine  language ;  "  another 
was  a  tendency  to  lug  in  by  the  ears  particularly  prized  words  and  phrases 
until  they  were  worn  entirely  out;  and  a  peculiarity  that  conspicuously 
marked  and  marred  them  was  the  inveterate  and  intolerable  sermon  that 
wagged  its  crippled  tail  at  the  end  of  each  and  every  one  of  them.  No  matter 
what  the  subject  might  be,  a  brain-racking  effort  was  made  to  squirm  it  into 
some  aspect  or  other  that  the  moral  and  religious  mind  could  contemplate 
with  edification.  The  glaring  insincerity  of  these  sermons  was  not  sufficient  to 
compass  the  banishment  of  the  fashion  from  the  schools,  and  it  is  not  sufficient 
to-day ;  it  never  will  be  sufficient  while  the  world  stands,  perhaps.  There  is 
no  school  in  all  our  land  where  the  young  ladies  do  not  feel  obliged  to  close 
their  compositions  with  a  sermom  ;  and  you  will  find  that  the  sermon  of  the 
most  frivolous  and  least  religious  girl  in  the  school  is  always  the  longest  and  the 
most  relentlessly  pious.  But  enough  of  this.  Homely  truth  is  unpalatable. 

Let  us  return  to  the  "  Examination."  The  first  composition  that  was  read 
was  one  entitled  "  Is  this,  then,  Life?"  Perhaps  the  reader  can  endure  an 
extract  from  it : 

"In  the  common  walks  of  life,  with  what  delightful  emotions  does  the  youthful  mind  look 
forward  to  some  anticipated  scene  of  festivity !  Imagination  is  busy  sketching  rose-tinted  pictures. 
of  joy.  In  fancy,  the  voluptuous  votary  of  fashion  sees  herself  amid  the  festive  throng,  '  the 
observed  of  all  observers.'  Her  graceful  form,  arrayed  in  snowy  robes,  is  whirling  through  the 
mazes  of  the  joyous  dance ;  her  eye  is  brightest,  her  step  is  lightest  in  the  gay  assembly. 

"  In  such  delicious  fancies  time  quickly  glides  by,  and  the  welcome  hour  arrives  for  her  entrance 
into  the  elysian  world,  of  which  she  has  had  such  bright  dreams.  How  fairy-like  does  every  thing 
appear  to  her  enchanted  vision  !  each  new  scene  is  more  charming  than  the  last.  But  after  a  while 
she  finds  that  beneath  this  goodly  exterior,  all  is  vanity :  the  flattery  which  once  charmed  her  soul, 
now  grates  harshly  upon  her  ear  ;  the  ball-room  has  lost  its  charms  ;  and  with  wasted  health  and 
imbittered  heart,  she  turns  away  with  the  conviction  that  earthly  pleasures  cannot  satisfy  the 
longings  of  the  soul ! " 

And  so  forth  and  so  on.  There  was  a  buzz  of  gratification  from  time  to  time 
during  the  reading,  accompanied  by  whispered  ejaculations  of  "  How  sweet !  "" 
"  How  eloquent ! "  "  So  true !  "  etc.,  and  after  the  thing  had  closed  with  a 
peculiarly  afflicting  sermon  the  applause  was  enthusiastic. 


172  TOM  SAWYER. 


Then  arose  a  slim,  melancholy  girl,  whose  face  had  the  "  interesting  "  pale- 
ness that  comes  of  pills  and  indigestion,  and  read  a  "poem."  Two  stanzas  of 

it  will  do : 

A  MISSOURI  MAIDEN'S  FAREWELL  TO  ALABAMA. 

ALABAMA,  good-bye  !     I  love  thee  well ! 

But  yet  for  awhile  do  I  leave  thee  now  ! 
Sad,  yes,  sad  thoughts  of  thee  my  heart  doth  swell, 

And  burning  recollections  throng  my  brow  ! 
For  I  have  wandered  through  thy  flowery  woods  ; 

Have  roamed  and  read  near  Tallapoosa's  stream  ; 
Have  listened  to  Tallassee's  warring  floods, 

And  wooed  on  Coosa's  side  Aurora's  beam. 

Yet  shame  I  not  to  bear  an  o'er-full  heart, 

Nor  blush  to  turn  behind  my  tearful  eyes  ; 
'Tis  from  no  stranger  land  I  now  must  part,    ,, 

'Tis  to  no  strangers  left  I  yield  these  sighs. 
Welcome  and  home  were  mine  within  this  State, 

Whose  vales  I  leave — whose  spires  fade  fast  from  me  : 
And  cold  must  be  mine  eyes,  and  heart,  and  tete, 

When,  dear  Alabama !  they  turn  cold  on  thee  ! 

•  There  were  very  few  there  who  knew  what  "  tete  "  meant,  but  the  poem  was 
very  satisfactory,  nevertheless. 

Next  appeared  a  dark  complexioned,  black  eyed,  black  haired  young  lady, 
who  paused  an  impressive  moment,  assumed  a  tragic  expression  and  began  to 
read  in  a  measured,  solemn  tone. 

A  VISION. 

Dark  and  tempestuous  was  night.  Around  the  throne  on  high  not  a  single  star  quivered  ;  but 
the  deep  intonations  of  the  heavy  thunder  constantly  vibrated  upon  the  ear ;  whilst  the  terrific 
lightning  revelled  in  angry  mood  through  the  cloudy  chambers  of  heaven,  seeming  to  scorn  the 
power  exerted  over  its  terror  by  the  illustrious  Franklin  !  Even  the  boisterous  winds  unanimously 
came  forth  from  their  mystic  homes,  and  blustered  about  as  if  to  enhance  by  their  aid  the  wildness 
of  the  scene. 

At  such  a  time,  so  dark,  so  dreary,  for  human  sympathy  my  very  spirit  sighed  ;  but  instead 

thereof, 

"  My  dearest  friend,  my  counsellor,  my  comforter  and  guide— 
My  joy  in  grief,  my  second  bliss  in  Joy,"  came  to  my  side. 

She  moved  like  one  of  those  bright  beings  pictured  in  the  sunny  walks  of  fancy's  Eden  by  the 


A  LENGTHY  VISION. 


romantic  and  young,  a  queen  of  beauty  unadorned  save  by  her  own  transcendent  loveliness.  So 
soft  was  her  step,  it  failed  to  make  even  a  sound,  and  but  for  the  magical  thrill  imparted  by  her 
genial  touch,  as  other  unobtrusive  beauties,  she  would  have  glided  away  unperceived — unsought. 
A  strange  sadness  rested  upon  her  features,  like  icy  tears  upon  the  robe  of  December,  as  she 
pointed  to  the  contending  elements  without,  and  bade  me  contemplate  the  two  beings  presented. 

This  nightmare  occupied  some  ten  pages  of  manuscript  and  wound  up  with 
a  sermon  so  destructive  of  all  hope  to  non-Presbyterians  that  it  took  the  first 


PK1ZE    AUTHORS. 


prize.  This  composition  was  considered  to  be  the  very  finest  effort  of  the 
evening.  The  mayor  of  the  village,  in  delivering  the  prize  to  the  author  of  it, 
made  a  warm  speech  in  which  he  said  that  it  was  by  far  the  most  "  eloquent " 
thing  he  had  ever  listened  to,  and  that  Daniel  Webster  himself  might  well  be 
proud  of  it. 

It  may  be  remarked,  in  passing,  that  the  number  of  compositions  in  which 
the  word  "  beauteous  "  was  over-fondled,  and  human  experience  referred  to  as 
"life's  page,"  was  up  to  the  usual  average. 


TOM  SAWYER. 


Now  the  master,  mellow  almost  to  the 
verge  of  geniality,  put  his  chair  aside, 
turned  his  back  to  the  audience,  and 
began  to  draw  a  map  of  America  on  the 
blackboard,  to  exercise  the  geography 
class  upon.  But  he  made  a  sad  business 
of  it  with  his  unsteady  hand,  and  a 
smothered  titter  rippled  over  the  house. 
He  knew  what  the  matter  was  and  set 
himself  to  right  it.  He  sponged  out 
lines  and  re-made  them ;  but  he  only 
distorted  them  more  than  ever,  and  the 
tittering  was  more  pronounced.  He 
threw  his  entire  attention  upon  his  work, 
now,  as  if  determined  not  to  be  put  down 
by  the  mirth.  He  felt  that  all  eyes  were 
fastened  upon  him ;  he  imagined  he  was 
succeeding,  and  yet  the  tittering  con- 
tinued ;  it  even  manifestly  increased. 
And  well  it  might.  There  was  a  garret 
above,  pierced  with  a  scuttle  over  his 
head;  and  down  through  this  scuttle 
came  a  cat,  suspended  around  the 
haunches  by  a  'string;  she  had  a  rag 
tied  about  her  head  and  jaws  to  keep 
her  from  mewing;  as  she  slowly  de- 
scended she  curved  upward  and  clawed 
at  the  string,  she  swung  downward  and 
clawed  at  the  intangible  air.  The  titter- 
ing rose  higher  and  higher — the  cat  was 
within  six  inches  of  the  absorbed  teacher's 
head — down,  down,  a  little  lower,  and 


THE  BOYS'    VENGEANCE  SATISFIED. 


175 


she  grabbed  his  wig  with  her  desperate  claws,  clung  to  it  and  was  snatched 
up  into  the  garret  in  an  instant  with  her  trophy  still  in  her  possession !  And 
how  the  light  did  blaze  abroad  from  the  master's  bald  pate — for  the  sign- 
painter's  boy  }\2idi  gilded  it! 

That  broke  up  the  meeting.    The  boys  were  avenged.     Vacation  had  come. 

NOTE. — The  pretended  "  compositions  "  quoted  in  this  chapter  are  taken  without  alteration  from 
a  volume  entitled  "  Prose  and  Poetry,  by  a  Western  Lady " — but  they  are  exactly  and  precisely 
after  the  school-girl  pattern  and  hence  are  much  happier  than  any  mere  imitations  could  be. 


THE  CADET 


joined  the  new  order  of  Cadets. 
of  Temperance,  being  attracted  by 
the  showy  character  of  their  "regalia." 
He  promised  to  abstain  from  smoking, 
chewing  and  profanity  as  long  as  he  re- 
mained a  member.  Now  he  found  out 
a  new  thing — namely,  that  to  promise 
not  to  do  a  thing  is  the  surest  way  in 
the  world  to  make  a  body  want  to  go 
and  do  that  very  thing.  Tom  soon 
found  himself  tormented  with  a  desire 
to  drink  and  swear ;  the  desire  grew 
to  be  so  intense  that  nothing  but  the 
hope  of  a  chance  to  display  himself 
in  his  red  sash  kept  him  from  with- 
drawing from  the  order.  Fourth  of 
July  was  coming ;  but  he  soon  gave 


that  up — gave  it  up  before  he  had  worn  his  shackles  over  forty-eight  hours — and 
fixed  his  hopes  upon  old  Judge  Frazer,  justice  of  the  peace,  who  was  apparently 

176 


TOM'S  CONFIDENCE  BETRA  YED. 


177 


on  his  death-bed  and  would  have  a  big  public  funeral,  since  he  was  so  high  an 
official.  During  three  days  Tom  was  deeply  concerned  about  the  Judge's  con- 
dition and  hungry  for  news  of  it.  Sometimes  his  hopes  ran  high — so  high  that  he 
would  venture  to  get  out  his  regalia  and  practice  before  the  looking-glass.  But 
the  Judge  had  a  most  discouraging  way  of  fluctuating.  At  last  he  was  pronounced 
upon  the  mend — and  then  convalescent.  Tom  was  disgusted;  and  felt  a  sense  of 
injury,  too.  He  handed  in  his  resignation  at  once — and  that  night  the  Judge 


HAPPY   FOR   TWO   DAYS. 

suffered  a  relapse  and  died.     Tom  resolved  that  he  would  never  trust  a  man  like 
that  again. 

The  funeral  was  a  fine  thing.     The  Cadets  paraded  in  a  style  calculated  to  kill 
the  late  member  with  envy.     Tom  was  a  free  boy  again,  however — there  was 
something  in  that.     He  could  drink  and  swear,  now — but  found   to  his  surprise 
12 


178 


TOM  SAWYER. 


that  he  did  not  want  to.     The  simple  fact  that  he  could,  took  the  desire  away, 
and  the-charm  of  it. 

Tom  presently  wondered  to  find  that  his  coveted  vacation  was  beginning  to 
hang  a  little  heavily  on  his  hands. 

He  attempted  a  diary — but  nothing  happened  during  three  days,  and  so  he 
abandoned  it. 

The  first  of  all  the  negro  minstrel  shows  came  to  town,  and  made  a  sensation. 
Tom  and  Joe  Harper  got  up  a  band  of  performers  and  were  happy  for  two  days. 

Even  the  Glorious  Fourth  was  in  some  sense  a  failure,  for  it  rained  hard,  there 
was  no  procession  in  consequence,  and  the  greatest  man  in  the  world  (as  Tom 
supposed)  Mr.  Benton,  an  actual  United  States  Senator,  proved  an  overwhelming 
disappointment — for  he  was  not  twenty-five  feet  high,  nor  even  anywhere  in  the 

neighborhood  of  it. 

A  circus  came.  The  boys  played  circus 
for  three  days  afterward  in  tents  made  of 
rag  carpeting — admission,  three  pins  for 
boys,  two  for  girls — and  then  circusing  was 
abandoned. 

A  phrenologist  and  a  mesmerizer  came 
— and  went  again  and  left  the  village  duller 
and  drearier  than  ever. 

There  were  some  boys-and-girls'  parties, 
but  they  were  so  few  and  so  delightful  that 
they  only  made  the  aching  voids  between 
ache  the  harder. 

Becky  Thatcher  was  gone  to  her  Constan- 
tinople home  to  stay  with  her  parents  during 
vacation — so  there  was  no  bright  side  to  life 
anywhere. 

It  was  a  very  cancer 


ENJOYING    THE    VACATION. 


The  dreadful  secret  of  the  murder  was  a  chronic  misery, 
for  permanency  and  pain. 


TOM  EXPECTS  SIGNAL  PUNISHMENT.  179 

Then  came  the  measles. 

During  two  long  weeks  Tom  lay  a  prisoner,  dead  to  the  world  and  its  happen- 
ings. He  was  very  ill,  he  was  interested  in  nothing.  When  he  got  upon  his  feet 
.at  last  and  moved  feebly  down  town,  a  melancholy  change  had  come  over  every- 
thing and  every  creature.  There  had  been  a  "  revival,"  and  everybody  had  "  got 
religion,"  not  only  the  adults,  but  even  the  boys  and  girls.  Tom  went  about, 
hoping  against  hope  for  the  sight  of  one  blessed  sinful  face,  but  disappointment 
•crossed  him  everywhere.  He  found  Joe  Harper  studying  a  Testament,  and 
turned  sadly  away  from  the  depressing  spectacle.  He  sought  Ben  Rogers,  and 
found  him  visiting  the  poor  with  a  basket  of  tracts.  He  hunted  up  Jim  Hollis, 
who  called  his  attention  to  the  precious  blessing  of  his  late  measles  as  a  warning. 
Every  boy  he  encountered  added  another  ton  to  his  depression  ;  and  when,  in 
desperation,  he  flew  for  refuge  at  last  to  the  bosom  of  Huckleberry  Finn  and  was 
received  with  a  scriptural  quotation,  his  heart  broke  and  he  crept  home  and  to 
bed  realizing  that  he  alone  of  all  the  town  was  lost,  forever  and  forever. 

And  that  night  there  came  on  a  terrific  storm,  with  driving  rain,  awful  claps  of 
thunder  and  blinding  sheets  of  lightning.  He  covered  his  head  with  the  bed- 
clothes and  waited  in  a  horror  of  suspense  for  his  doom;  for  he  had  not  the 
shadow  of  a  doubt  that  all  this  hubbub  was  about  him.  He  believed  he  had 
taxed  the  forbearance  of  the  powers  above  to  the  extremity  of  endurance  and 
that  this  was  the  result.  It  might  have  seemed  to  him  a  waste  of  pomp  and  am- 
munition to  kill  a  bug  with  a  battery  of  artillery,  but  there  seemed  nothing  incon- 
gruous about  the  getting  up  such  an  expensive  thunder  storm  as  this  to  knock 
the  turf  from  under  an  insect  like  himself. 

By  and  by  the  tempest  spent  itself  and  died  without  accomplishing  its  object. 
The  boy's  first  impulse  was  to  be  grateful,  and  reform.  His  second  was  to  wait 
— for  there  might  not  be  any  more  storms. 

The  next  day  the  doctors  were  back ;  Tom  had  relapsed.  The  three  weeks  he 
spent  on  his  back  this  time  seemed  an  entire  age.  When  he  got  abroad  at  last  he 
was  hardly  grateful  that  he  had  been  spared,  remembering  how  lonely  was  his 
•estate,  how  companionless  and  forlorn  he  was.  He  drifted  listlessly  down  the 


i8o 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


street  and  found  Jim  Hollis  acting  as  judge  in  a  juvenile  court  that  was  trying  a 
cat  for  murder,  in  the  presence  of  her  victim,  a  bird.  He  found  Joe  Harper  and 
Huck  Finn  up  an  alley  eating  a  stolen  melon.  Poor  lads  !  they — like  Tom — had 
suffered  a  relapse. 


last  the  sleepy  atmosphere  was 
stirred — and  vigorously :  the  murder 
trial  came  on  in  the  court.  It  be- 
came the  absorbing  topic  of  village 
talk  immediately.  Tom  could  not 
get  away  from  it.  Every  reference 
to  the  murder  sent  a  shudder  to  his 
heart,  for  his  troubled  conscience 
and  fears  almost  persuaded  him  that 
these  remarks  were  put  forth  in  his 
hearing  as  "feelers;  "  he  did  not  see 
how  he  could  be  suspected  of  know- 
ing anything  about  the  murder,  but 
still  he  could  not  be  comfortable  in 
the  midst  of  this  gossip.  It  kept 
him  in  a  cold  shiver  all  the  time. 
He  took  Huck  to  a  lonely  place  to 
have  a  talk  with  him.  It  would  be  some  relief  to  unseal  his  tongue  for  a  little 
while;  to  divide  his  burden  of  distress  with  another  sufferer.  Moreover,  he 
wanted  to  assure  himself  that  Huck  had  remained  discreet. 

181 


1 82  TOM  SAWYER. 


"Huck,  have  you  ever  told  anybody  about — that?" 

"  'Bout  what  ? " 

"  You  know  what." 

"  Oh — 'course  I  haven't." 

"  Never  a  word  ?  " 

"  Never  a  solitary  word,  so  help  me.     What  makes  you  ask  ?  " 

"Well,  I  wasafeard." 

"  Why  Tom  Sawyer,  we  wouldn't  be  alive  two  days  if  that  got  found  ouL 
You  know  that." 

Tom  felt  more  comfortable.     After  a  pause : 

"Huck,  they  couldn't  anybody  get  you  to  tell,  could  they  ? " 

"  Get  me  to  tell?  Why  if  I  wanted  that  half-breed  devil  to  drownd  me  they 
could  get  me  to  tell.  They  ain't  no  different  way." 

"Well,  that's  all  right,  then.  I  reckon  we're  safe  as  long  as  we  keep  mum. 
But  let's  swear  again,  anyway.  It's  more  surer." 

"  I'm  agreed." 

So  they  swore  again  with  dread  solemnities. 

"  What  is  the  talk  around,  Huck  ?     I've  heard  a  power  of  it." 

"Talk?  Well,  it's  just  Muff  Potter,  Muff  Potter,  Muff  Potter  all  the  time. 
It  keeps  me  in  a  sweat,  constant,  so's  I  want  to  hide  som'ers." 

"That's  just  the  same  way  they  go  on  round  me.  I  reckon  he's  a  goner. 
Don't  you  feel  sorry  for  him,  sometimes?  " 

"Most  always — most  always.  He  ain't  no  account;  but  then  he  hain't  ever 
done  anything  to  hurt  anybody.  Just  fishes  a  little,  to  get  money  to  get  drunk 
on — and  loafs  around  considerable;  but  lord  we  all  do  that — leastways  most  of 
us, — preachers  and  such  like.  But  he's  kind  of  good — he  give  me  half  a  fish, 
once,  when  there  warn't  enough  for  two;  and  lots  of  times  he's  kind  of  stood 
by  me  when  I  was  out  of  luck." 

"Well,  he's  mended  kites  for  me,  Huck,  and  knitted  hooks  on  to  my  line.  I 
wish  we  could  get  him  out  of  there." 

"  My!  we  couldn't  get  him  out  Tom.  And  besides,  'twouldn't  do  any  good; 
they'd  ketch  him  again." 


OLD  MUFF'S  FRIENDS.  183 


"Yes — so  they  would.  But  I  hate  to  hear  'em  abuse  him  so  like  the  dickens 
when  he  never  done — that." 

"  I  do  too,  Tom.  Lord,  I  hear  'em  say  he's  the  bloodiest  looking  villain  in 
this  country,  and  they  wonder  he  wasn't  ever  hung  before." 

"Yes,  they  talk  like  that,  all  the  time.  I've  heard 'em  say  that  if  he  was  to 
get  free  they'd  lynch  him." 

"  And  they'd  do  it,  too." 

The  boys  had  a  long  talk,  but  it  brought  them  little  comfort.  As  the  twi- 
light drew  on,  they  found  themselves  hanging  about  the  neighborhood  of  the 
little  isolated  jail,  perhaps  with  an  undefined  hope  that  something  would  hap- 
pen that  might  clear  away  their  difficulties.  But  nothing  happened ;  there 
seemed  to  be  no  angels  or  fairies  interested  in  this  luckless  captive. 

The  boys  did  as  they  had  often  done  before — went  to  the  cell  grating  and 
gave  Potter  some  tobacco  and  matches.  He  was  on  the  ground  floor  and 
there  were  no  guards. 

His  gratitude  for  their  gifts  had  always  smote  their  consciences  before — it 
cut  deeper  than  ever,  this  time.  They  felt  cowardly  and  treacherous  to  the  last 
degree  when  Potter  said  : 

"  You've  been  mighty  good  to  me,  boys — better'n  anybody  else  in  this  town. 
And  I  don't  forget  it,  I  don't.  Often  I  says  to  myself,  says  I,  '  I  used  to  mend 
all  the  boys'  kites  and  things,  and  show  'em  where  the  good  fishin'  places  was, 
and  befriend  'em  what  I  could,  and  now  they've  all  forgot  old  Muff  when  he's 
in  trouble;  but  Tom  don't,  and  Huck  don't — they  don't  forget  him/ says  I, 
'and  I  .don't  forget  them.'  Well,  boys,  I  done" an  awful  thing — drunk  and  crazy 
at  the  time — that's  the  only  way  I  account  for  it — and  now  I  got  to  swing  for 
it,  and  it's  right.  Right,  and  best,  too  I  reckon — hope  so,  anyway.  Well,  we 
won't  talk  about  that.  I  don't  want  to  make  you  feel  bad;  you've  befriended 
me.  But  what  I  want  to  say,  is,  don't  you  ever  get  drunk — then  you  won't  ever 
get  here.  Stand  a  little  furder  west — so — that's  it:  it's  a  prime  comfort  to  see 
faces  that's  friendly  when  a  body's  in  such  a  muck  of  trouble,  and  there  don't 
none  come  here  but  yourn.  Good  friendly  faces — good  friendly  faces.  Git 
up  on  one  another's  backs  and  let  me  touch  'em.  That's  it.  Shake  hands — 


184 


TOM  SAWYER. 


yourn'll  come  through  the  bars,  but  mine's 
too  big.  Little  hands,  and  weak  —  but 
they've  helped  Muff  Potter  a  power,  and 
they'd  help  him  more  if  they  could." 

Tom  went  home  miserable,  and  his 
dreams  that  night  were  full  of  horrors. 
The  next  day  and  the  day  after,  he  hung 
about  the  court  room,  drawn  by  an  almost 
irresistible  impulse  to  go  in,  but  forcing 
himself  to  stay  out.  Huck  was  having 
the  same  experience.  They  studiously 
avoided  each  other.  Each  wandered  away, 
from  time  to  time,  but  the  same  dismal 
fascination  always  brought  them  back 
presently.  Tom  kept  his  ears  open  when 
idlers  sauntered  out  of  the  court  room, 
but  invariably  heard  distressing  news — 
the  toils  were  closing  more  and  more  re- 
lentlessly around  poor  Potter.  At  the 
end  of  the  second  day  the  village  talk  was 
to  the  effect  that  Injun  Joe's  evidence 
stood  firm  and  unshaken,  and  that  there 
was  not  the  slightest  question  as  to  what 
the  jury's  verdict  would  be. 

Tom  was  out  late,  that  night,  and  came 
to  bed  through  the  window.  He  was  in 
a  tremendous  state  of  excitement.  It  was 
hours  before  he  got  to  sleep.  All  the 
village  flocked  to  the  Court  house  the 
next  morning,  for  this  was  to  be  the  great 
day.  Both  sexes  were  about  equally  rep- 
resented in  the  packed  audience.  After 


MUFF  POTTER  IN  COURT.  185 

-a  long  wait  the  jury  filed  in  and  took  their  places;  shortly  afterward,  Potter, 
pale  and  haggard,  timid  and  hopeless,  was  brought  in,  with  chains  upon  him, 
and  seated  where  all  the  curious  eyes  could  stare  at  him ;  no  less  conspicuous 
was  Injun  Joe,  stolid  as  ever.  There  was  another  pause,  and  then  the  judge 
arrived  and  the  sheriff  proclaimed  the  opening  of  the  court.  The  usual  whis- 
perings among  the  lawyers  and  gathering  together  of  papers  followed.  These 
details  and  accompanying  delays  worked  up  an  atmosphere  of  preparation 
that  was  as  impressive  as  it  was  fascinating. 

Now  a  witness  was  called  who  testified  that  he  found  Muff  Potter  washing 
in  the  brook,  at  an  early  hour  of  the  morning  that  the  murder  was  discovered, 
and  that  he  immediately  sneaked  away.  After  some  further  questioning,  coun- 
sel for  the  prosecution  said — 

"Take  the  witness." 

The  prisoner  raised  his  eyes  for  a  moment,  but  dropped  them  again  when  his 
own  counsel  said — 

"  I  have  no  questions  to  ask  him." 

The  next  witness  proved  the  finding  of  the  knife  near  the  corpse.  Counsel 
for  the  prosecution  said: 

"  Take  the  witness." 

"  I  have  no  questions  to  ask  him,"  Potter's  lawyer  replied. 

A  third  witness  swore  he  had  often  seen  the  knife  in  Potter's  possession. 

"Take  the  witness." 

Counsel  for  Potter  declined  to  question  him.»  The  faces  of  the  audience 
began  to  betray  annoyance.  Did  this  attorney  mean  to  throw  away  his  client's 
life  without  an  effort  ? 

Several  witnesses  deposed  concerning  Potter's  guilty  behavior  when  brought 
to  the  scene  of  the  murder.  They  were  allowed  to  leave  the  stand  without 
being  cross-questioned. 

Every  detail  of  the  damaging  circumstances  that  occurred  in  the  graveyard 
upon  that  morning  which  all  present  remembered  so  well,  was  brought  out  by 
credible  witnesses,  but  none  of  them  were  cross-examined  by  Potter's  lawyer. 
The  perplexity  and  dissatisfaction  of  the  house  expressed  itself  in  murmurs 


i86 


TOM  SA  W  YER. 


and  provoked  a  reproof  from  the  bench.     Counsel   for  the  prosecution   now- 
said  : 

"  By  the  oaths  of  citizens  whose  simple  word  is  above  suspicion,  we  have 
fastened  this  awful  crime  beyond  all  possibility  of  question,  upon  the  unhappy 
prisoner  at  the  bar.  We  rest  our  case  here." 

A  groan  escaped  from  poor  Potter,  and  he  put  his  face  in  his  hands  and 
rocked  his  body  softly  to  and  fro,  while  a  painful  silence  reigned  in  the  court- 
room. Many  men  were  moved,  and  many  women's  compassion  testified  itself 
in  tears.  Counsel  for  the  defence  rose  and  said: 

"  Your  honor,  in  our  remarks  at  the  opening  of  this  trial,  we  foreshadowed 

our  purpose  to  prove  that  our  client  did 
this  fearful  deed  while  under  the  influence 
of  a  blind  and  irresponsible  delirium 
produced  by  drink.  We  have  changed 
our  mind.  We  shall  not  offer  that  plea." 
[Then  to  the  clerk  ]:  "Call  Thomas 
Sawyer !  " 

A  puzzled  amazement  awoke  in  every 
face  in  the  house,  not  even  excepting- 
Potter's.  Every  eye  fastened  itself  with 
wondering  interest  upon  Tom  as  he  rose 
and  took  his  place  upon  the  stand.  The 
boy  looked  wild  enough,  for  he  was  badly 
scared.  The  oath  was  administered. 

"  Thomas'  Sawyer,  where  were  you  on 
the  seventeenth  of  June,  about  the  hour 
of  midnight  ?  " 

Tom  glanced  at  Injun  Joe's  iron  face  and  his  tongue  failed  him.     The  audi- 
ence listened  breathless,  but  the  words  refused  to  come.     After  a  few  moments, 
however,  the  boy  got  a  little  of  his  strength  back,  and  managed  to  put  enough 
of  it  into  his  voice  to  make  part  of  the  house  hear: 
"  In  the  graveyard  ! " 


TOM    SWEARS. 


MUFF  POTTER  SA  VED.  i«7 

"  A  little  bit  louder,  please.     Don't  be  afraid.     You  were —  " 

"  In  the  graveyard." 

A  contemptuous  smile  flitted  across  Injun  Joe's  face. 

"  Were  you  anywhere  near  Horse  Williams's  grave  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Speak  up — just  a  trifle  louder.     How  near  were  you?" 

"  Near  as  I  am  to  you." 

"Were  you  hidden,  or  not?" 

"I  was  hid." 

"Where?" 

"  Behind  the  elms  that's  on  the  edge  of  the  grave." 

Injun  Joe  gave  a  barely  perceptible  start. 

"  Any  one  with  -you  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir.     I  went  there  with — " 

"Wait — wait  a  moment.  Nevermind  mentioning  your  companion's  name- 
We  will  produce  him  at  the  proper  time.  Did  you  carry  anything  there  with, 
you." 

Tom  hesitated  and  looked  confused. 

"  Speak  out  my  boy — don't  be  diffident.  The  truth  is  always  respectable. 
What  did  you  take  there?  " 

"  Only  a — a — dead  cat." 

There  was  a  ripple  of  mirth,  which  the  court  checked. 

"We  will  produce  the  skeleton  of  that  cat.  Now  my  boy,  tell  us  everything 
that  occurred — tell  it  in  your  own  way — don't  skip  anything,  and  don't  be 
afraid." 

Tom  began — hesitatingly  at  first,  but  as  he  warmed  to  his  subject  his  words 
flowed  more  and  more  easily ;  in  a  little  while  every  sound  ceased  but  his  own 
voice;  every  eye  fixed  itself  upon  him  ;  with  parted  lips  and  bated  breath  the 
audience  hung  upon  his  words,  taking  no  note  of  time,  rapt  in  the  ghastly  fas- 
cinations of  the  tale.  The  strain  upon  pent  emotion  reached  its  climax  when 
the  boy  said — 

" — and  as  the  doctor  fetched  the  board  around  and  Muff  Potter  fell,  Injun 
Joe  jumped  with  the  knife  and — " 


i88 


TOM  SAWYER. 


Crash !     Quick  as  lightning  the  half-breed  sprang  for  a  window,  tore  his 
way  through  all  opposers,  and  was  gone! 


was  a  glittering  hero  once  more — 
the  pet  of  the  old,  the  envy  of  the 
young.  His  name  even  went  into 
immortal  print,  for  the  village  paper 
magnified  him.  There  were  some  that 
believed  he  would  be  President,  yet, 
if  he  escaped  hanging. 

As  usual,  the  fickle,  unreasoning 
world  took  Muff  Potter  to  its  bosom 
and  fondled  him  as  lavishly  as  it  had 
abused  him  before.  But  that  sort 
of  conduct  is  to  the  world's  credit; 
therefore  it  is  not  well  to  find  fault 
with  it. 

Tom's  days  were  days  of  splendor 
and  exultation  to  him,  but  his  nights 
were  seasons  of  horror.  Injun  Joe 
infested  all  his  dreams,  and  always  with  doom  in  his  eye.  Hardly  any  temptation 
could  persuade  the  boy  to  stir  abroad  after  nightfall.  Poor  Huck  was  in  the 

189 


TOM  SAWYER. 


same  state  of  wretchedness  and  terror,  for  Tom  had  told  the  whole  story  to  the 
lawyer  the  night  before  the  great  day  of  the  trial,  and  Huck  was  sore  afraid  that 

his  share  in  the  business  might  leak  out, 
yet,  notwithstanding  Injun  Joe's  flight  had 
saved  him  the  suffering  of  testifying  in 
court.  The  poor  fellow  had  got  the  attor- 
ney to  promise  secrecy,  but  what  of  that  ? 
Since  Tom's  harrassed  conscience  had 
managed  to  drive  him  to  the  lawyer's 
house  by  night  and  wring  a  dread  tale 
from  lips  that  had  been  sealed  with  the 
dismalest  and  most  formidable  of  oaths, 
Huck's  confidence  in  the  human  race  was 
well  nigh  obliterated. 

Daily  Muff  Potter's  gratitude  made  Tom 
glad  he  had  spoken ;  but  nightly  he  wished 
he  had  sealed  up  his  tongue. 

Half  the  time  Tom  was  afraid  Injun  Joe 
TOM  DREAMS.  wouldnever  be  captured;  the  other  half 

he  was  afraid  he  would  be.     He  felt  sure  he  never  could  draw  a  safe  breath  again 
until  that  man  was  dead  and  he  had  seen  the  corpse. 

Rewards  had  been  offered,  the  country  had  been  scoured,  but  no  Injun  Joe  was 
found.  One  of  those  omniscient  and  awe-inspiring  marvels,  a  detective,  came  up 
from  St  Louis,  moused  around,  shook  his  head,  looked  wise,  and  made  that  sort  of 
astounding  success  which  members  of  that  craft  usually  achieve.  That  is  to  say 
he  "found  a  clew."  But  you  can't  hang  a  "  clew  " for  murder  and  so  after  that 
detective  had  got  through  and  gone  home,  Tom  felt  just  as  insecure  as  he  was 
before. 

The  slow  days  drifted  on,  and  each  left  behind  it  a  slightly  lightened  weight  of 
apprehension. 


'TflEASU 

tmndance  of  that  sort  of  time  which  is  not  money. 
"  O,  most  anywhere." 
"  Why,  is  it  hid  all  around  ?  " 

191 


comes  a  time  in  every  right- 
ly constructed  boy's  life  when  he  has 
a  raging  desire  to  go  somewhere  and 
dig  for  hidden  treasure.  This  desire 
suddenly  came  upon  Tom  one  day. 
He  sallied  out  to  find  Joe  Harper, 
but  failed  of  success.  Next  he  sought 
Ben  Rogers;  he  had  gone  fishing. 
Presently  he  stumbled  upon  Huck 
Finn  the  Red-Handed.  Huck  would 
answer.  Tom  took  him  to  a  private 
place  and  opened  the  matter  to  him 
confidentially.  Huck  was  willing. 
Huck  was  always  willing  to  take  a 
hand  in  any  enterprise  that  offered 
entertainment  and  required  no  capi- 
tal, for  he  had  a  troublesome  supera- 
"  Where '11  we  dig  ?  "  said  Huck. 


I92 


TOM  SAWYER. 


"No  indeed  it  ain't.     It's  hid  in  mighty  particular  places,  Huck— sometimes  on 
islands,  sometimes  in  rotten  chests  under  the  end  of  a  limb  of  an  old  dead  tree,  just 

where  the  shadow  falls  at  midnight;  but 
mostly  under  the  floor  in  ha'nted  houses." 
"  Who  hides  it  ?  " 

"Why  robbers,   of  course  —  who'd  you 
reckon?     Sunday-school  sup'rintendents?" 
"I  don't  know.    If  'twas  mine  I  wouldn't 
hide    it;  I'd    spend   it    and  have   a    good 
time." 

"  So  would  I.  But  robbers  don't  do  that 
way.  They  always  hide  it  and  leave  it 
there." 

"  Don't  they  come  after  it  any  more  ?  " 
.  "  No,  they  think  they  will,  but  they  gen- 
erally forget  the  marks,  or  else  they  die. 
Anyway  it  lays  there  a  long  time   and  gets, 
rusty;    and  by  and  by  somebody  finds  an 
old  yellow  paper  that  tells  how  to  find  the 
THE  PKITATE  CONFERENCE.  marks— a.  paper  that's  got  to  be  ciphered 

over  about  a  week  because  it's  mostly  signs  and  hy'roglyphics." 
"  Hyro — which  ?  " 

"Hy'rogliphics — pictures  and  things,  you  know,  that  don't  seem  to  mean 
anything." 

"  Have  you  got  one  of  them  papers,  Tom  ?  " 
"No." 

"  Well  then,  how  you  going  to  find  the  marks  ?  " 

"  I  don't  want  any  marks.  They  always  bury  it  under  a  ha'nted  house  or  on  an 
island,  or  under  a  dead  tree  that's  got  one  limb  sticking  out.  Well,  we've  tried 
Jackson's  Island  a  little,  and  we  can  try  it  again  some  time ;  and  there's  the  old 
ha'nted  house  up  the  Still-House  branch,  and  there's  lots  of  dead-limb  trees — 
dead  loads  of  'em." 


ABOUT  KINGS  AND  DIAMONDS.  193 

"  Is  it  under  all  of  them  ?  " 

"How  you  talk!     No!  " 

"  Then  how  you  going  to  know  which  one  to  go  for  ?  " 

"  Go  for  all  of 'em  !  " 

"  Why  Tom,  it'll  take  all  summer." 

"  Well,  what  of  that  ?  Suppose  you  find  a  brass  pot  with  a  hundred  dollars 
in  it,  all  rusty  and  gay,  or  a  rotten  chest  full  of  di'monds.  How's  that  ?  " 

Huck's  eyes  glowed. 

"  That's  bully.  Plenty  bully  enough  for  me.  Just  you  gimme  the  hundred 
dollars  and  I  don't  want  no  di'monds." 

"  All  right.  But  I  bet  you  /  ain't  going  to  throw  off  on  di'monds.  Some  of 
'em's  worth  twenty  dollars  apiece — there  ain't  any,  hardly,  but's  worth  six  bits  or 
a  dollar." 

"No!     Is  that  so?'5 

"  Cert'nly — anybody'll  tell  you  so.     Hain't  you  ever  seen  one,  Huck  ?  " 

"  Not  as  I  remember." 

"  O,  kings  have  slathers  of  them." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  no  kings,  Tom." 

"  I  reckon  you  don't.  But  if  you  was  to  go  to  Europe  you'd  see  a  raft  of 'em 
hopping  around." 

"  Do  they  hop  ?  " 

"  Hop  ?  — your  granny  !     No !  " 

"  Well  what  did  you  say  they  did,  for  ?  " 

"  Shucks,  I  only  meant  you'd  see  'em — not  hopping,  of  course — what  do  they 
want  to  hop  for  ? — but  I  mean  you'd  just  see  'em — scattered  around,  you  know,  in 
a  kind  of  a  general  way.  Like  that  old  hump-backed  Richard." 

"  Richard  ?     What's  his  other  name  ?  " 

"  He  didn't  have  any  other  name.     Kings  don't  have  any  but  a  given  name." 

"  No  ?  " 

"  But  they  don't." 

•"  Well,  if  they  like  it,  Tom,  all  right ;  but  I  don't  want  to  be  a  king  and  have 


I94 


TOM  SAWYER. 


only  just  a  given  name,  like  a  nigger.     But  say — where  you  going  to  dig  first?" 
"Well,  I  don't  know.     S'pose  we  tackle  that  old   dead-limb  tree  on  the  hill 

t'other  side  of  Still-House  branch  ?  " 
"I'm  agreed." 

So  they  got  a  crippled  pick  and  a  shovel, 
and  set  out  on  their  three-mile  tramp.    They 
arrived  hot  and  panting,  and  threw  them- 
selves down  in  the  shade  of  a  neighboring 
elm  to  rest  and  have  a  smoke. 
"  I  like  this,"  said  Tom. 
"So  do  I." 

"  Say,  Huck,  if  we  find  a  treasure  here, 
what  you  going  to  do  with  your  share  ?  " 

"Well  I'll  have  pie  and  a  glass  of  soda 
every  day,  and  I'll  go  to  every  circus 
that  comes  along.  I  bet  I'll  have  a  gay 
time." 

"  Well  ain't  you  going  to  save  any  of  it?  " 
A  KING,  POOR  FKLLOW!  "  Save  it  ?     What  for  ?  " 

"Why  so  as  to  have  something  to  live  on,  by  and  by." 
"  O,  that  ain't  any  use.     Pap  would  come  back  to  thish-yer  town  some  day  and 
get  his  claws  on  it  if  I  didn't  hurry  up,  and  I  tell  you  he'd  clean  it  out  pretty 
quick.     What  you  going  to  do  with  yourn,  Tom  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  buy  a  new  drum,  and  a  sure-'nough  sword,  and  a  red  neck-tie 
and  a  bull  pup,  and  get  married." 
"  Married !  " 
"That's  it." 

"  Tom,  you — why  you  ain't  in  your  right  mind." 
"Wait — you'll  see." 

"  Well  that's  the  foolishest  thing  you  could  do.     Look  at  pap  and  my  mother. 
Fight !     Why  they  used  to  fight  all  the  time.     I  remember,  mighty  well." 
"That  ain't  anything.     The  girl  I'm  going  to  marry  won't  fight." 


SEARCH  FOR   TREASURES. 


195 


V 


"  Tom,  I  reckon  they're  all  alike.  They'll  all  comb  a  body.  Now  you  better 
think  'bout  this  a  while.  I  tell  you  you  better.  What's  the  name  of  the  gal?  " 

"  It  ain't  a  gal  at  all — it's  a  girl." 

"It's  all  the  same,  I  reckon;  some  says  gal,  some  says  girl — both's  right,  like 
enough.  Anyway,  what's  her  name,  Tom  ?  " 

"I'll  tell  you  some  time — not  now." 

"All  right — that'll  do.    Only  if  you  get  married  I'll  be  more  lonesomer  than  ever." 

"  No  you  won't.  You'll  come  and  live 
with  me.  Now  stir  out  of  this  and  we'll 
go  to  digging." 

They  worked  and  sweated  for  half  an 
hour.  No  result.  They  toiled  another 
half  hour.  Still  no  result.  Huck  said  : 

"  Do  they  always  bury  it  as  deep  as 
this?" 

"Sometimes — not  always.  Not  gener- 
ally. I  reckon  we  haven't  got  the  right 
place." 

So  they  chose  a  new  spot  and  began 
again.  The  labor  dragged  a  little,  but 
still  they  made  progress.  They  pegged 
away  in  silence  for  some  time.  Finally 
Huck  leaned  on  his  shovel,  swabbed  the 
beaded  drops  from  his  brow  with  his 
sleeve,  and  said : 

"  Where  you  going  to  dig  next,  after  we  get  this  one  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  maybe  we'll  tackle  the  old  tree  that's  over  yonder  on  Cardiff  Hill 
back  of  the  widow's." 

"  I  reckon  that'll  be  a  good  one.  But  won't  the  widow  take  it  away  from  us 
Tom?  It's  on  her  land." 

"She  take  it  away !  Maybe  she'd  like  to  try  it  once.  Whoever  finds  one  of 
these  hid  treasures,  it  belongs  to  him.  It  don't  make  any  difference  whose  land 
it's  on." 


196  TOM  SAWYER. 


That  was  satisfactory.     The  work  went  on.     By  and  by  Huck  said  : — 

"  Blame  it,  we  must  be  in  the  wrong  place  again.     What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"It  is  mighty  curious  Huck.  I  don't  understand  it.  Sometimes  witches  inter- 
fere. I  reckon  maybe  that's  what's  the  trouble  now." 

"  Shucks,  witches  ain't  got  no  power  in  the  daytime." 

"  Well,  that's  so.  I  didn't  think  of  that.  Oh,  I  know  what  the  matter  is ! 
What  a  blamed  lot  of  fools  we  are !  You  got  to  find  out  where  the  shadow  of  the 
limb  falls  at  midnight,  and  that's  where  you  dig !  " 

"  Then  consound  it,  we've  fooled  away  all  this  work  for  nothing.  Now  hang  it 
all,  we  got  to  come  back  in  the  night.  It's  an  awful  long  way.  Can  you  get  out  ?  " 

"  I  bet  I  will.  We've  got  to  do  it  to  night,  too,  because  if  some  body  sees  these 
holes  they'll  know  in  a  minute  what's  here  and  they'll  go  for  it." 

"Well,  I'll  come  around  and  maow  to  night." 

"All  right.     Let's  hide  the  tools  in  the  bushes." 

The  boys  were  there  that  night,  about  the  appointed  time.  They  sat  in  the 
shadow  waiting.  It  was  a  lonely  place,  and  an  hour  made  solemn  by  old  tra- 
ditions. Spirits  whispered  in  the  rustling  leaves,  ghosts  lurked  in  the  murky 
nooks,  the  deep  baying  of  a  hound  floated  up  out  of  the  distance,  an  owl  answered 
with  his  sepulchral  note.  The  boys  were  subdued  by  these  solemnities,  and 
talked  little.  By  and  by  they  judged  that  twelve  had  come  ;  they  marked  where 
the  shadow  fell,  and  began  to  dig.  Their  hopes  commenced  to  rise.  Their 
interest  grew  stronger,  and  their  industry  kept  pace  with  it.  The  hole  deepened 
and  still  deepened,  but  every  time  their  hearts  jumped  to  hear  the  pick  strike 
upon  something,  they  only  suffered  a  new  disappointment.  It  was  only  a  stone 
or  a  chunk.  At  last  Tom  said  : — 

"  It  ain't  any  use,  Huck,  we're  wrong  again." 

"  Well  but  we  cant  be  wrong.     We  spotted  the  shadder  to  a  dot." 
•     "  I  know  it,  but  then  there's  another  thing." 

"What's  that?" 

"  Why  we  only  guessed  at  the  time.     Like  enough  it  was  too  late  or  too  early." 

Huck  dropped  his  shovel. 

"  That's  it,"  said  he.  "  That's  the  very  trouble.  We  got  to  give  this  one  up. 
We  can't  ever  tell  the  right  time,  and  besides  this  kind  of  thing's  too  awful,  here  this 


DEAD  PEOPLE  AND  GHOSTS.  19? 

time  of  night  with  witches  and  ghosts  a  fluttering  around  so.  I  feel  as  if  something's 
behind  me  all  the  time  ;  and  I'm  afeard  to  turn  around,  becuz  maybe  there's  others 
in  front  a-waiting  for  a  chance.  I  been  creeping  all  over,  ever  since  I  got  here." 

"Well,  I've  been  pretty  much  so,  too,  Huck.  They  most  always  put  in  a  dead 
man  when  they  bury  a  treasure  under  a  tree,  to  look  out  for  it." 

"  Lordy !  " 

"  Yes,  they  do.     I've  always  heard  that." 

"  Tom  I  don't  like  to  fool  around  much  where  there's  dead  people.  A  body's 
bound  to  get  into  trouble  with  'em,  sure." 

"I  don't  like  to  stir 'em  up,  either.  S'pose  this  one  here  was  to  stick  his  skull 
out  and  say  something  !  " 

"  Don't,  Tom!     It's  awful." 

"Well  it  just  is.     Huck,  I  don't  feel  comfortable  a  bit." 

"  Say,  Tom,  let's  give  this  place  up,  and  try  somewheres  else." 

"  All  right,  I  reckon  we  better." 

"  What '11  it  be  ?  " 

Tom  considered  a  while ;  and  then  said — 

"  The  ha'nted  house.     That's  it !  " 

"  Blame  it,  I  don't  like  ha'nted  houses  Tom.  Why  they're  a  dern  sight  worse'n 
dead  people.  Dead  people  might  talk,  maybe,  but  they  don't  come  sliding 
around  in  a  shroud,  when  you  ain't  noticing,  and  peep  over  yo'ur  shoulder  all  of  a 
sudden  and  grit  their  teeth,  the  way  a  ghost  does.  I  couldn't  stand  such  a  thing 
as  that,  Tom — nobody  could." 

"  Yes,  but  Huck,  ghosts  don't  travel  around  only  at  night.  They  won't  hender 
us  from  digging  there  in  the  day  time." 

"  Well  that's  so.  But  you  know  mighty  well  people  don't  go  about  that  ha'nted 
house  in  the  day  nor  the  night." 

"  Well,  that's  mostly  because  they  don't  like  to  go  where  a  man's  been  murdered, 
anyway — but  nothing's  ever  been  seen  around  that  house  except  in  the  night — just 
some  blue  lights  slipping  by  the  windows — no  regular  ghosts." 

"Well  where  you  see  one  of  them  blue  lights  flickering  around,  Tom,  you  can 
bet  there's  a  ghost  mighty  close  behind  it.  It  stands  to  reason.  Becuz  you  know 
that  they  don't  anybody  but  ghosts  use  'em." 


z98 


TOM  SAWYER. 


"  Yes,  that's  so.  But  anyway  they  don't  come  around  in  the  daytime,  so  what's 
the  use  of  our  being  afeared  ?  " 

"  Well,  all  right.  We'll  tackle  the  ha'nted  house  if  you  say  so — but  I  reckon 
it's  taking  chances." 

They  had  smarted  down  the  hill  by  this  time.  There  in  the  middle  of  the  moon- 
lit valley  below  them  stood  the  "ha'nted  "  house,  utterly  isolated,  its  fences  gone 


THE  HA'NTED  HOUSE. 

long  ago,  rank  weeds  smothering  the  very  doorsteps,  the  chimney  crumbled  to 
ruin,  the  window-sashes  vacant,  a  corner  of  the  roof  caved  in.  The  boys  gazed  a 
while,  half  expecting  to  see  a  blue  light  flit  past  a  window;  then  talking  in  a  low 
tone,  as  befitted  the  time  and  the  circumstances,  they  struck  far  off  to  the  right, 
to  give  the  haunted  house  a  wide  berth,  and  took  their  way  homeward  through  the 
woods  that  adorned  the  rearward  side  of  Cardiff  Hill. 


noon  the  next  day  the 
boys  arrived  at  the  dead  tree;  they 
had  come  for  their  tools.  Tom  was 
impatient  to  go  to  the  haunted 
house;  Huck  was  measurably  so, 
also—but  suddenly  said — 

"  Lookyhere,  Tom,  do  you  know 
what  day  it  is? " 

Tom  mentally  ran  over  the  days 
of  the  week,  and  then  quickly  lifted 
I     his   eyes  with  a   startled   look  in 
them — 

"My!  I  never  once  thought. of 
it,  Huck!" 

"  Well  I  didn't  neither,  but  all  at 
once  it  popped  onto  me  that  it  was 
Friday." 

"  Blame  it,  a  body  can't  be  too  careful,  Huck.     We  might  a  got  into  an  awful 
scrape,  tackling  such  a  thing  on  a  Friday." 

199 


TOM  SAWYER. 


'•'•Might!    Better  say  we  would!    There's  some  lucky  days,  maybe,  but  Friday 
ain't." 

"Any  fool  knows  that.     I  don't  reckon  you  was  the  first  that  found  it  out, 
Huck."  ( 

"  Well,  I  never  said  I  was,  did  I  ?     And  Friday  ain't  all,   neither.     I  had  a 
rotten  bad  dream  last  night — dreampt  about  rats." 
"  No !     Sure  sign  of  trouble.     Did  they  fight  ?  " 
'    "No." 

"Well  that's  good,  Huck.    When  they  don't  fight  it's  only  a  sign  that  there's 
trouble  around,  you  know.     All  we  got  to  do  is  to  look  mighty  sharp  and 

keep  out  of  it.  We'll  drop  this  thing  for  to- 
day, and  play.  Do  you  know  Robin  Hood, 
Huck?" 

"  No.     Who's  Robin  Hood  ?  " 
"  Why  he  was  one  of  the  greatest  men 
that  was  ever  in  England — and  the  best.    He 
was  a  robber." 

"  Cracky,  I  wisht  I  was.    Who  did  he  rob  ? " 
"  Only  sheriffs  and  bishops  and  rich  people 
and  kings,  and   such   like.      But   he   never 
bothered  the  poor.     He  loved  'em.     He  al- 
ways divided  up  with  'em  perfectly  square." 
""Well,  he  must  'a'  been  a  brick." 
"  I  bet  you  he  was,  Huck.     Oh,  he  was  the 
noblest  man  that  ever  was.     They  ain't  any 
THE  GREATEST  AND  BEST.  such   men  now,  I  can  tell  you.     He  could 

lick  any  man  in  England,  with  one  hand  tied  behind  him  ;  and  he  could  take 
his  yew  bow  and  plug  a  ten  cent  piece  every  time,  a  mile  and  a  half." 
"What's  a  yew  bow  ?  " 

"/  don't  know.     It's  some  kind  of  a  bow,  of  course.     And  if  he  hit  that 
dime  only  on  the  edge  he  would  set  down  and  cry — and  curse.     But  we'll  play 
Robin  Hood — it's  noble  fun.     I'll  learn  you." 
"I'm  agreed." 


THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE. 


So  they  played  Robin  Hood  all  the  afternoon,  now  and  then  casting  a 
yearning  eye  down  upon  the  haunted  house  and  passing  a  remark  about  the 
morrow's  prospects  and  possibilities  there.  As  the  sun  began  to  sink  into  the 
west  they  took  their  way  homeward  athwart  the  long  shadows  of  the  trees  and 
soon  were  buried  from  sight  in  the  forests  of  Cardiff  Hill. 

On  Saturday,  shortly  after  noon,  the  boys  were  at  the  dead  tree  again.  They 
had  a  smoke  and  a  chat  in  the  shade,  and  then  dug  a  little  in  their  last  hole, 
not  with  great  hope,  but  merely  because  Tom  said  there  were  so  many  cases 
where  people  had  given  up  a  treasure  after  getting  down  within  six  inches  of  it, 
and  then  somebody  else  had  come  along  and  turned  it  up  with  a  single  thrust 
of  a  shovel.  The  thing  failed  this  time,  however,  so  the  boys  shouldered  their 
tools  and  went  away  feeling  that  they  had  not  trifled  with  fortune  but  had  ful- 
filled all  the  requirements  that  belong  to  the  business  of  treasure-hunting. 

When  they  reached  the  haunted  house  there  was  something  so  wierd  and  grisly 
about  the  dead  silence  that  reigned  there  under  the  baking  sun,  and  something 
so  depressing  about  the  loneliness  and  desolation  of  the  place,  that  they  were 
afraid,  for  a  moment,  to  venture  in.  Then  they  crept  to  the  door  and  took  a 
trembling  peep.  They  saw  a  weed-grown,  floorless  room,  unplastered,  an 
ancient  fireplace,  vacant  windows,  a  ruinous  staircase ;  and  here,  there,  and 
everywhere,  hung  ragged  and  abandoned  cobwebs.  They  presently  entered, 
softly,  with  quickened  pulses,  talking  in  whispers,  ears  alert  to  catch  the  slight- 
est sound,  and  muscles  tense  and  ready  for  instant  retreat. 

In  a  little  while  familiarity  modified  their  fears  and  they  gave  the  place  a 
critical  and  interested  examination,  rather  admiring  their  own  boldness,  and 
wondering  at  it,  too.  Next  they  wanted  to  look  up  stairs.  This  was  some- 
thing like  cutting  off  retreat,  but  they  got  to  daring  each  other,  and  of  course 
there  could  be  but  one  result — they  threw  their  tools  into  a  corner  and  made 
the  ascent.  Up  there  were  the  same  signs  of  decay.  In  one  corner  they  found 
a  closet  that  promised  mystery,  but  the  promise  was  a  fraud — there  was  noth- 
ing in  it.  Their  courage  was  up  now  and  well  in  hand.  They  were  about  to  go 
down  and  begin  work  when — 

"  Sh  !  "  said  Tom. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  whispered  Huck,  blanching  with  fright. 


TOM  SA  W  YER. 


"Sh! There!  ....'.  Hear  it?" 

"Yes! O,  my!     Let's  run!" 

"  Keep  still !     Don't  you  budge  !     They're  coming  right  toward  the  door." 

The  boys  stretched  themselves  upon  the  floor  with  their  eyes  to  knot  holes 
in  the  planking,  and  lay  waiting,  in  a  misery  of  fear. 

"  They've  stopped No — coming Here  they  are.  Don't 

whisper  another  word,  Huck.  My  goodness,  I  wish  I  was  out  of  this !  " 

Two  men  entered.  Each  boy  said  to  himself:  "There's  the  old  deaf  and 
dumb  Spaniard  that's  been  about  town  once  or  twice  lately — never  saw  t'other 
man  before." 

"T'other  "was  a  ragged,  unkempt  creature,  with  nothing  very  pleasant  in 
his  face.  The  Spaniard  was  wrapped  in  a  scrape ;  he  had  bushy  white  whisk- 
ers; long  white  hair  flowed  from  under  his  sombrero,  and  he  wore  green  gog- 
gles. When  they  came  in,  "  t'other  "  was  talking  in  a  low  voice ;  they  sat  down 
on  the  ground,  facing  the  door,  with  their  backs  to  the  wall,  and  the  speaker 
continued  his  remarks.  His  manner  became  less  guarded  and  his  words  more 
distinct  as  he  proceeded  : 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  I've  thought  it  all  over,  and  I  don't  like  it.     It's  dangerous." 

"  Dangerous !  "  grunted  the  "  deaf  and  dumb  "  Spaniard, — to  the  vast  sur- 
prise of  the  boys.  "  Milksop  !  " 

This  voice  made  the  boys  gasp  and  quake.  It  was  Injun  Joe's!  There  was 
silence  for  some  time.  Then  Joe  said: 

"What's  any  more  dangerous  than  that  job  up  yonder — but  nothing's  come 
of  it." 

"That's  different.  Away  up  the  river  so,  and  not  another  house  about. 
'Twon't  ever  be  known  that  we  tried,  anyway,  long  as  we  didn't  succeed." 

"  Well,  what's  more  dangerous  than  coming  here  in  the  day  time ! — anybody 
would  suspicion  us  that  saw  us." 

"  /  know  that.  But  there  warn't  any  other  place  as  handy  after  that  fool  of 
a  job.  I  want  to  quit  this  shanty.  I  wanted  to  yesterday,  only  it  warn't  any 
use  trying  to  stir  out  of  here,  with  those  infernal  boys  playing  over  there  on 
the  hill  right  in  full  view." 


SLEEP  Y  GHOSTS.  203 


"  Those  infernal  boys,"  quaked  again  under  the  inspiration  of  this  remark,, 
and  thought  how  lucky  it  was  that  they  had  remembered  it  was  Friday  and 
concluded  to  wait  a  day.  They  wished  in  their  hearts  they  had  waited  a  year. 

The  two  men  got  out  some  food  and  made  a  luncheon.  After  a  long  and 
thoughtful  silence,  Injun  Joe  said  : 

"  Look  here,  lad — you  go  back  up  the  river  where  you  belong.  Wait  there 
till  you  hear  from  me.  I'll  take  the  chances  on  dropping  into  this  town  just 
once  more,  for  a  look.  We'll  do  that  'dangerous 'job  after  I've  spied  around  a 
little  and  think  things  look  well  for  it.  Then  for  Texas !  We'll  leg  it 
together !  " 

This  was  satisfactory.  Both  men  presently  fell  to  yawning,  and  Injun  Joe 
said: 

"  I'm  dead  for  sleep  !     It's  your  turn  to  watch." 

He  curled  down  in  the  weeds  and  soon  began  to  snore.  His  comrade  stirred 
him  once  or  twice  and  he  became  quiet.  Presently  the  watcher  began  to  nod; 
his  head  drooped  lower  and  lower,  both  men  began  to  snore  now. 

The  boys  drew  a  long,  grateful  breath.     Tom  whispered — 

"  Now's  our  chance — come  ! " 

Huck  said  : 

"  I  can't— I'd  die  if  they  wasMo  wake." 

Tom  urged — Huck  held  back.  At  last  Tom  rose  slowly  and  softly,  and 
started  alone.  But  the  first  step  he  made  wrung  such  a  hideous  creak  from 
the  crazy  floor  that  he  sank  down  almost  dead  with  fright.  He  never  made  a 
second  attempt.  The  boys  lay  there  counting  the  dragging  moments  till  it 
seemed  to  them  that  time  must  be  done  and  eternity  growing  gray ;  and  then 
they  were  grateful  to  note  that  at  last  the  sun  was  setting. 

Now  one  snore  ceased.  Injun  Joe  sat  up,  stared  around — smiled  grimly 
upon  his  comrade,  whose  head  was  drooping  upon  his  knees — stirred  him  up 
with  his  foot  and  said — 

"Here!  You're  a  watchman,  ain't  you!  All  right,  though  —  nothing's 
happened." 

"  My  !  have  I  been  asleep  ?  " 


204  TOM  SAWYER. 


"  Oh,  partly,  partly.  Nearly  time  for  us  to  be  moving,  pard.  What'll  we  do 
with  what  little  swag  we've  got  left  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know — leave  it  here  as  we've  always  done,  I  reckon.  No  use  to  take 
it  away  till  we  start  south.  Six  hundred  and  fifty  in  silver's  something  to 
carry." 

"Well — all  right — it  won't  matter  to  come  here  once  more." 

"  No — but  I'd  say  come  in  the  night  as  we  used  to  do — it's  better." 
"Yes;  but  look  here ;  it  may  be  a  good  while  before  I  get  the  right  chance 
at  that  job;  accidents  might  happen  ;   'tain't  in  such  a  very  good  place;  we'll 
just  regularly  bury  it — and  bury  it  deep." 

"  Good  idea,"  said  the  comrade,  who  walked  across  the  room,  knelt  down, 
raised  one  of  the  rearward  hearthstones  and  took  out  a  bag  that  jingled  pleas- 
antly. He  subtracted  from  it  twenty  or  thirty  dollars  for  himself  and  as  much 
for  Injun  Joe  and  passed  the  bag  to  the  latter,  who  was  on  his  knees  in  the 
corner,  now,  digging  with  his  bowie  knife. 

The  boys  forgot  all  their  fears,  all  their  miseries  in  an  instant.  With  gloat- 
ing eyes  they  watched  every  movement.  Luck ! — the  splendor  of  it  was 
beyond  all  imagination !  Six  hundred  dollars  was  money  enough  to  make 
half  a  dozen  boys  rich !  Here  was  treasure-hunting  under  the  happiest  aus- 
pices— there  would  not  be  any  bothersome  uncertainty  as  to  where  to  dig. 
They  nudged  each  other  every  moment — eloquent  nudges  and  easily  under- 
stood, for  they  simply  meant — "  O,  but  ain't  you  glad  now  we're  here  ! " 

Joe's  knife  struck  upon  something. 

"  Hello  ! "  said  he. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  said  his  comrade. 

"  Half-rotten  plank — no  it's  a  box,  I  believe.  Here — bear  a  hand  and  we'll 
see  what  it's  here  for.  Never  mind,  I've  broke  a  hole." 

He  reached  his  hand  in  and  drew  it  out —  « 

"  Man,  it's  money  ! " 

The  two  men  examined  the  handful  of  coins.  They  were  gold.  The  boys 
above  were  as  excited  as  themselves,  and  as  delighted. 

Joe's  comrade  said — 


A  BOX  OF  GOLD. 


205 


"  We'll  make  quick  work  of  this.  There's  an  old  rusty  pick  over  amongst 
the  weeds  in  the  corner  the  other  side  of  the  fire-place — I  saw  it  a  minute  ago." 

He  ran  and  brought  the  boys'  pick  and  shovel.  Injun  Joe  took  the  pick, 
looked  it  over  critically,  shook  his  head,  muttered  something  to  himself,  and 
then  began  to  use  it.  The  box  was  soon  unearthed.  It  was  not  very  large ; 


HIDDEN  TREASURES  UNEARTHED. 


it  was  iron  bound  and  had  been  very  strong  before  the  slow  years  had  injured 
it.  The  men  contemplated  the  treasure  a  while  in  blissful  silence. 

"  Pard,  there's  thousands  of  dollars  here,"  said  Injun  Joe. 

"'Twas  always  said  that  Murrel's  gang  used  around  here  one  summer,"  the 
stranger  observed. 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Injun  Joe;  "and  this  looks  like  it,  I  should  say." 

" Now  you  won't  need  to  do  that  job." 

The  half-breed  frowned.     Said  he — 

"You  don't  know  me.     Least  you  don't  know  all  about  that  thing.     Tain't 


20  6  TOM  SAWYER. 


robbery  altogether — it's  revenge  !"  and  a  wicked  light  flamed  in  his  eyes.  "  I'll 
need  your  help  in  it.  When  it's  finished — then  Texas.  Go  home  to  your 
Nance  and  your  kids,  and  stand  by  till  you  hear  from  me." 

"  Well — if  you  say  so,  what'll  we  do  with  this — bury  it  again  ?  " 

"Yes.  [Ravishing  delight  overhead.]  No!  by  the  great  Sachem,  no! 
[Profound  distress  overhead.]  I'd  nearly  forgot.  That  pick  had  fresh  earth 
on  it !  [The  boys  were  sick  with  terror  in  a  moment.]  What  business  has 
a  pick  and  a  shovel  here  ?  What  business  with  fresh  earth  on  them  ?  Who 
brought  them  here — and  where  are  they  gone  ?  Have  you  heard  anybody? — 
seen  anybody  ?  What !  bury  it  again  and  leave  them  to  come  and  see  the 
ground  disturbed?  Not  exactly — not  exactly.  We'll  take  it  to  my  den." 

"Why  of  course!  Might  have  thought  of  that  before.  You  mean  Number 
One?" 

"No — Number  Two  —  under  the  cross.  The  other  place  is  bad  — too 
common." 

"  All  right.     It's  nearly  dark  enough  to  start." 

Injun  Joe  got  up  and  went  about  from  window  to  window  cautiously  peep- 
ing out.  Presently  he  said  : 

"  Who  could  have  brought  those  tools  here?  Do  you  reckon  they  can  be  up 
stairs  ? " 

The  boys'  breath  forsook  them.  Injun  Joe  put  his  hand  on  his  knife,  halted 
a  moment,  undecided,  and  then  turned  toward  the  stairway.  The  boys  thought 
of  the  closet,  but  their  strength  was  gone.  The  steps  came  creaking  up  the 
stairs — the  intolerable  distress  of  the  situation  woke  the  stricken  resolution  of 
the  lads — they  were  about  to  spring  for  the  closet,  when  there  was  a  crash  of 
rotten  timbers  and  Injun  Joe  landed  on  the  ground  amid  the  debris  of  the 
ruined  stairway.  He  gathered  himself  up  cursing,  and  his  comrade  said: 

*'  Now  what's  the  use  of  all  that  ?  If  it's  anybody,  and  they're  up  there,  let 
them  stay  there — who  cares?  If  they  want  to  jump  down,  now,  and  get  into 
trouble,  who  objects?  It  will  be  dark  in  fifteen  minutes — and  then  let  them 
follow  us  if  they  want  to.  I'm  willing.  In  my  opinion,  whoever  hove  those 
things  in  here  caught  a  sight  of  us  and  took  us  for  ghosts  or  devils  or  some- 
thing. I'll  bet  they're  running  yet." 


BITTER  LUCK'. 


207 


Joe  grumbled  a  while ;  then  he  agreed  with  his  friend  that  what  daylight 
was  left  ought  to  be  economized  in  getting  things  ready  for  leaving.  Shortly 
afterward  they  slipped  out  of  the  house 
in  the  deepening  twilight,  and  moved 
toward  the  river  with  their  precious 
box. 

Tom  and  Huck  rose  up,  weak  but 
vastly  relieved,  and  stared  after  them 
through  the  chinks  between  the  logs  of 
the  house.  Follow  ?  Not  they.  They 
were  content  to  reach  ground  again 
without  broken  necks,  and  take  the 
townward  track  over  the  hill.  They 
did  not  talk  much.  They  were  too 
much  absorbed  in  hating  themselves — 
hating  the  ill  luck  that  made  them  take 
the  spade  and  the  pick  there.  But  for 
that,  Injun  Joe  never  would  have  sus- 
pected. He  would  have  hidden  .the 
silver  with  the  gold  to  wait  there  till  his  "revenge"  was  satisfied,  and  then  he 
would  have  had  the  misfortune  to  find  that  money  turn  up  missing.  Bitter, 
bitter  luck  that  the  tools  were  ever  brought  there ! 

They  resolved  to  keep  a  lookout  for  that  Spaniard  when  he  should  come  to  town 
spying  out  for  chances  to  do  his  revengeful  job,  and  follow  him  to  "  Number 
Two,"  wherever  that  might  be.  Then  a  ghastly  thought  occurred  to  Tom  : 

"  Revenge  ?  "     What  if  he  means  us,  Huck  !  " 

"  O,  don't !  "  said  Huck,  nearly  fainting. 

They  talked  it  all  over,  and  as.  they  entered  town  they  agreed  to  believe  that 
he  might  possibly  mean  somebody  else — at  least  that  he  might  at  least  mean 
nobody  but  Tom,  since  only  Tom  had  testified. 

Very,  very  small  comfort  it  was  to  Tom  to  be  alone  in  danger  !  Company 
wcruld  be  a  palpable  improvement,  he  thought. 


SALVATION. 


/I  I ' 


adventure  of  the  day  mightily  tor- 
mented Tom's  dreams  that  night. 
Four  times  he  had  his  hands  on  that 
rich  treasure  and  four  times  it  wasted 
to  nothingness  in  his  fingers  as  sleep 
forsook  him  and  wakefulness  brought 
back  the  hard  reality  of  his  misfor- 
tune. As  he  lay  in  the  early  morning 
recalling  the  incidents  of  his  great  ad- 
venture, he  noticed  that  they  seemed 
curiously  subdued  and  far  away  — 
somewhat  as  if  they  had  happened  in 
another  world,  or  in  a  time  long  gone 
by.  Then  it  occurred  to  him  that 
the  great  adventure  itself  must  be 
a  dream  !  There  was  one  very  strong 
argument  in  favor  of  this  idea  — 
namely,  that  the  quantity  of  coin  he  had  seen  was  too  vast  to  be  real.  He  had 
never  seen  as  much  as  fifty  dollars  in  one  mass  before,  and  he  was  like  all  boys  of 

208 


DOUBTS  TO  BE  SETTLED. 


his  age  and  station  in  life,  in  that  he  imagined  that  all  references  to  "hundreds" 
and  "thousands  "  were  mere  fanciful  forms  of  speech,  and  that  no  such  sums 
really  existed  in  the  world.  He  never  had  supposed  for  a  moment  that  so  large  a 
sum  as  a  hundred  dollars  was  to  be  found  in  actual  money  in  any  one's  posses- 
sion. If  his  notions  of  hidden  treasure  had  been  analyzed,  they  would  have  been 
found  to  consist  of  a  handful  of  real  dimes  and  a  bushel  of  vague,  splendid, 
ungraspable  dollars. 

But  the  incidents  of  his  adventure  grew  sensibly  sharper  and  clearer  under  the 

attrition  of  thinking  them  over,  and  so  he 
presently  found  himself  leaning  to  the 
impression  that  the  thing  might  not  have 
been  a  dream,  after  all.  This  uncertainty 
must  be  swept  away.  He  would  snatch  a 
hurried  breakfast  and  go  and  find  Huck. 

Huck  was  sitting  on  the  gunwale  of  a 
flatboat,  listlessly  dangling  his  feet  in  the 
water  and  looking  very  melancholy.  Tom 
concluded  to  let  Huck  lead  up  to  the  sub- 
ject. If  he  did  not  do  it,  then  the  adven- 
ture would  be  proved  to  have  been  only 
a  dream. 

"  Hello,  Huck  !  " 
"  Hello,  yourself." 
Silence,  for  a  minute. 
"  Tom,  if  we'd  a  left  the  blame  tools  at 
O,  ain't  it  awful !  " 

Somehow  I  most  wish  it  was.     Dog'd 


THE    NEXT    DAY  ri    CONFERENCE. 


the  dead  tree,  we'd  'a'  got  the  money. 

"  'Tain't  a  dream,  then,  'tain't  a  dream  ! 
if  I  don't,   Huck." 

"  What  ain't  a  dream  ?  " 

"Oh,  that  thing  yesterday.     I  been  half  thinking  it  was." 

"Dream!  If  them  stairs  hadn't  broke  down  you'd  'a'  seen  how  much  dream  it 
was!  I've  had  dreams  enough  all  night — with  that  patch-eyed  Spanish  devil 
going  for  me  all  through  'em — rot  him  !  "  14 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


"  No,  not  rot  him.     Find him!     Track  the  money!  " 

"Tom,  we'll  never  find  him.  A  feller  don't  have  only  once  chance  for  such  a 
pile — and  that  one's  lost.  I'd  feel  mighty  shaky  if  I  was  to  see  him,  anyway." 

"Well,  so'd  I;  but  I'd  like  to  see  him,  anyway — and  track  him  out — to  his 
Number  Two." 

"Number  Two — yes,  that's  it.  I  ben  thinking  'bout  that.  But  I  can't  make 
nothing  out  of  it.  What  do  you  reckon  it  is?  " 

"  I  dono.     It's  too  deep.     Say,  Huck — maybe  it's  the  number  of  a  house  !  " 

"  Goody ! No,  Tom,  that  ain't  it.     If  it  is,  it  ain't  in  this  one-horse 

town.     They  ain't  no  numbers  here." 

"Well,  that's  so.  Lemme  think  a  minute.  Here — it's  the  number  of  a  room — • 
in  a  tavern,  you  know !  " 

"  O,  that's  the  trick!     They  ain'.t  only  two  taverns.     We  can  find  out  quick." 

"  You  stay  here,  Huck,  till  I  come." 

Tom  was  off  at  once.  He  did  not  care  to  have  Huck's  company  in  public 
places.  He  was  gone  half  an  hour.  He  found  that  in  the  best  tavern,  No.  2  had 
long  been  occupied  by  a  young  lawyer,  and  was  still  so  occupied.  In  the  less 
ostentatious  house  No.  2  was  a  mystery.  The  tavern-keeper's  young  son  said  it 
was  kept  locked  all  the  time,  and  he  never  saw  anybody  go  into  it  or  come  out  of 
it  except  at  night ;  he  did  not  know  any  particular  reason  for  this  state  of  things  ; 
had  had  some  little  curiosity,  but  it  was  rather  feeble  ;  had  made  the  most  of  the 
mystery  by  entertaining  himself  with  the  idea  that  that  room  was  "  ha'nted ;  "  had 
noticed  that  there  was  a  light  in  there  the  night  before. 

"  That's  what  I've  found  out,  Huck.     I  reckon  that's  the  very  No.  2  we're  after." 

"  I  reckon  it  is,  Tom.     Now  what  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"Lemme  think." 

Tom  thought  a  long  time.     Then  he  said  : 

"  I'll  tell  you.  The  back  door  of  that  No.  2  is  the  door  that  comes  out  into 
that  little  close  alley  between  the  tavern  and  the  old  rattle-trap  of  a  brick  store. 
Now  you  get  hold  of  all  the  door-keys  you  can  find,  and  I'll  nip  all  of  Auntie's  and 
the  first  dark  night  we'll  go  there  and  try  'em.  And  mind  you  keep  a  lookout 
for  Injun  Joe,  because  he  said  he  was  going  to  drop  into  town  and  spy  around 


THE    YOUNG  DETECTIVES. 


once  more  for  a  chance  to  get  his  revenge.     If  you  see  him,  you  just  follow  him ; 

and  if  he  don't  go  to  that  No.  2l  that  ain't  the  place." 
"  Lordy  I  don't  want  to  foller  him  by  myself!  " 
"Why  it'll  be  night,  sure.     He   mightn't  ever  see  you — and   if  he   did,  maybe 

he'd  never  think  anything." 

"Well,  if  it's  pretty  dark  I  reckon  I'll  track  him.     I  dono — I  dono.     I'll  try." 
"  You  bet  /  '11  follow  him,  if  it's  dark,  Huck.    Why  he  might  'a'  found  out  he 

couldn't  get  his  revenge,  and  be  going  right  after  that  .money." 
"  It's  so,  Tom,  it's  so.     I'll  foller  him  ;  I  will,  by  jingoes  !  " 
'"Now  you're  talking!    Don't  you  ever  weaken,  Huck,  and  I  won't." 


night  Tom  and  Huck  were- 
ready  for  their  adventure.  They 
hung  about  the  neighborhood  of  the- 
tavern  until  after  nine,  one  watching, 
the  alley  at  a  distance  and  the  other 
the  tavern  door.  Nobody  entered 
the  alley  or  left  it ;  nobody  resem- 
bling the  Spaniard  entered  or  left 
the  tavern  door.  The  night  prom- 
ised to  be  a  fair  one ;  so  Tom  went 
home  with  the  understanding  that  if 
a  considerable  degree  of  darkness 
came  on,  Huck  was  to  come  and 
"maow,"  whereupon  he  would  slip 
out  and  try  the  keys.  But  the  night 
remained  clear,  and  Huck  closed 
his  watch  and  retired  to  bed  in  an 
empty  sugar  hogshead  about  twelve.. 
Tuesday  the  boys  had  the  same  ill  luck.  Also  Wednesday.  But  Thursday 
night  promised  better.  Tom  slipped  out  in  good  season  with  his  aunt's  old  tin. 

212 


AN  A  TTEMPT  ON  NO.   TWO. 


213 


lantern,  and  a  large  towel  to  blindfold  it  with.     He  hid  the  lantern  in  Hack's  sugar 
.hogshead  and  the  watch  began.     An  hour  before  midnight  the  tavern  closed  up 

and  its  lights  (the  only  ones  there- 
abouts) were  put  out.  No  Spaniard 
had  been  seen.  Nobody  had  entered 
or  left  the  alley.  Everything  was  aus- 
picious. The  blackness  of  darkness 
reigned,  the  perfect  stillness  was  inter- 
rupted only  by  occasional  mutterings 
of  distant  thunder. 

Tom  got  his  lantern,  lit  it  in  the  hogs- 
head, wrapped  it  closely  in  the  towel, 
and  the  two  adventurers  crept  in  the 
gloom  toward  the  tavern.  Huck  stood 
sentry  and  Tom  felt  his  way  into  the 
alley.  Then  there  was  a  season  of 
waiting  anxiety  that  weighed  upon 
Huck's  spirits  like  a  mountain.  He 
began  to  wish  he  could  see  a  flash 
from  the  lantern  —  it  would  frighten 
him,  but  it  would  at  least  tell  him  that  Tom  was  alive  yet.  It  seemed  hours  since 
Tom  had  disappeared.  Surely  he  must  have  fainted;  maybe  he  was  dead; 
maybe  his  heart  had  burst  under  terror  and  excitement.  In  his  uneasiness  Huck 
found  himself  drawing  closer  and  closer  to  the  alley;  fearing  all  sorts  of  dreadful 
•things,  and  momentarily  expecting  some  catastrophe  to  happen  that  would  take 
away  his  breath.  There  was  not  much  to  take  away,  for  he  seemed  only  able  to 
inhale  it  by  thimblefuls,  and  his  heart  would  soon  wear  itself  out,  the  way  it  was 
beating.  Suddenly  there  was  a  flash  of  light  and  Tom  came  tearing  by  him : 
"  Run  !  "  said  he  ;  "  run,  for  your  life  !  " 

He  needn't  have  repeated  it;  once  was  enough;  Huck  was  making  thirty  or 
forty  miles  an  hour  before  the  repetition  was  uttered.  The  boys  never  stopped 
till  they  reached  the  shed  of  a  deserted  slaughter-house  at  the  lower  end  of  the 


HUCK   AT    HOME. 


214 


TOM  SA  W  YER. 


village.     Just  as  they  got  within  its  shelter  the  storm  burst  and  the  rain  poured 
down.     As  soon  as  Tom  got  his  breath  he  said  :    x 

"  Huck,  it  was  awful !  I  tried  two  of  the  keys,  just  as  soft  as  I  could ;  but  they 
seemed  to  make  such  a  power  of  racket  that  I  couldn't  hardly  get  my  breath  I 
was  so  scared.  They  wouldn't  turn  in  the  lock,  either.  Well,  without  noticing 


THE    HAUNTED   ROOM. 

what  I  was  doing,  I  took  hold  of  the  knob,  and  open  comes  the  door !  It  warn't 
locked  !  I  hopped  in,  and  shook  off  the  towel,  and,  great  Ctzsars  ghost !  " 

"  What ! — what  'd  you  see,  Tom  !  " 

"  Huck,  I  most  stepped  onto  Injun  Joe's  hand !  " 

"No!" 

"Yes!  He  was  laying  there,  sound  asleep  on  the  floor,  with  his  old  patch  on 
his  eye  and  his  arms  spread  out." 

"  Lordy,  what  did  you  do?     Did  he  wake  up  ?  " 


HUCK  MO  UNTS  G  UA  RD.  2 1 5 


"  No,  never  budged.    Drunk,  I  reckon.    I  just  grabbed  that  towel  and  started !" 

'"  I'd  never  'a'  thought  of  the  towel,  I  bet !  " 

"Well,  /would.     My  auixl  would  make  me  mighty  sick  if  I  lost  it." 

"  Say,  Tom,  did  you  see  that  box  ?  " 

"  Huck  I  didn't  wait  to  look  around.  I  didn't  see  the  box,  I  didn't  see  the 
cross.  I  didn't  see  anything  but  a  bottle  and  a  tin  cup  on  the  floor  by  Injun  Joe ; 
yes,  and  I  saw  two  barrels  and  lots  more  bottles  in  the  room.  Don't  you  see, now, 
what's  the  matter  with  that  ha'nted  room  ?  " 

"  How  ?  " 

"Why  it's  ha'nted  with  whisky!  Maybe  all  the  Temperance  Taverns  have  got 
a  ha'nted  room,  hey  Huck  ?  " 

"Well  I  reckon  maybe  that's  so.  Who'd  'a'  thought  such  a  thing?  But  say, 
Tom,  now's  a  mighty  good  time  to  get  that  box,  if  Injun  Joe's  drunk." 

"  It  is,  that!     You  try  it !  " 

Huck  shuddered. 

"Well,  no — I  reckon' not." 

"And /reckon  not,  Huck.  Only  one  bottle  alongside  of  Injun  Joe  ain't 
enou'gh.  If  there'd  been  three,  he'd  be  drunk  enough  and  I'd  do  it." 

There  was  a  long  pause  for  reflection,  and  then  Tom  said : 

"  Lookyhere,  Huck,  less  not  try  that  thing  any  more  till  we  know  Injun  Joe's 
not  in  there.  It's  too  scary.  Now  if  we  watch  every  night,  we'll  be  dead  sure  to 
see  him  go  out,  some  time  or  other,  and  then  we'll  snatch  that  box  quicker'n 
lightning." 

"  Well,  I'm  agreed.  I'll  watch  the  whole  night  long,  and  I'll  do  it  every  night, 
too,  if  you'll  do  the  other  part  of  the  job." 

"  All  right,  I  will.  All  you  got  to  do  is  to  trot  up  Hooper  street  a  block  and 
maow — and  if  I'm  asleep,  you  throw  some  gravel  at  the  window  and  that'll  fetch 
me." 

VAgreed,  and  good  as  wheat!  " 

"  Now  Huck,  the  storm's  over,  and  I'll  go  home.  It'll  begin  to  be  daylight  in 
a  couple  of  hours.  You  go  back  and  watch  that  long,  will  you  ?  " 

"  I  said  I  would,  Tom,  and  I  will.  I'll  ha'nt  that  tavern  every  night  for  a  year! 
I'll  sleep  all  day  and  I'll  stand  watch  all  night." 


2l6 


TOM  SAWYER. 


"  That's  all  right.     Now  where  you  going  to  sleep?  " 

"  In  Ben  Rogers's  hayloft.  He  let's  me,  and  so  does  his  pap's  nigger  man, 
Uncle  Jake.  I  tote  water  for  Uncle  Jake  whenever  he  wants  me  to,  and  any  time 
I  ask  him  he  gives  me  a  little  something  to  eat  if  he  can  spare  it.  That's  a 
mighty  good  nigger,  Tom.  He  likes  me,  becuz  I  don't  ever  act  as  if  I  was  above' 
him.  Sometimes  I've  set  right  down  and  eat  with  him.  But  you  needn't  tell  that. 
A  body's  got  to  do  things  when  he's  awful  hungry  he  wouldn't  want  to  do  as  a 
steady  thing." 

"Well,  if  I  don't  want  you  in  the  day  time,  I'll  let  you  sleep.  I  won't  corne 
bothering  around.  Any  time  you  see  something's  up,  in  the  night,  just  skip  right 
around  and  maow." 


first  thing  Tom  heard  on  Fri- 
day morning  was  a  glad  piece  of 
news — Judge  Thatcher's  family  had 
come  back  to  town  the  night  before. 
Both  Injun  Joe  and  the  treasure 
sunk  into  secondary  importance  for 
a  moment,  and  Becky  took  the  chief 
place  in  the  boy's  interest.  He  saw 
her  and  they  had  an  exhausting 
good  time  playing  "  hi-spy "  and 
"gully-keeper"  with  a  crowd  of 
their  schoolmates.  The  day  was 
completed  and  crowned  in  a  pecul- 
iarly satisfactory  way  :  Becky  teased 
her  mother  to  appoint  the  next  day 
for  the  long-promised  and  long-  • 
delayed  picnic,  and  she  consented. 
The  child's  delight  was  boundless;  and  Tom's  not  more  moderate.  The  invi- 
tations were  sent  out  before  sunset,  and  straightway  the  young  folks  of  the 

217 


2l8  TOM  SAWYER. 


village  were  thrown  into  a  fever  of  preparation  and  pleasurable  anticipation. 
Tom's  excitement  enabled  him  to  keep  awake  until  a  pretty  late  hour,  and  he  had 
good  hopes  of  hearing  Huck's  "  maow,"  and  of  having  his  treasure  to  astonish 
Becky  and  the  pic-nickers  with,  next  day;  but  he  was  disappointed.  No  signal 
came  that  night.  . 

Morning  came,  eventually,  and  by  ten  or  eleven  o'clock  a  giddy  and  rollicking 
company  were  gathered  at  Judge  Thatcher's,  and  everything  was  ready  for  a  start. 
It  was  not  the  custom  for  elderly  people  to  mar  pic-nics  with  their  presence.  The 
children  were  considered  safe  enough  under  the  wings  of  a  few  young  ladies  of 
eighteen  and  a  few  young  gentlemen  of  twenty-three  or  thereabouts.  The  old 
steam  ferry-boat  was  chartered  for  the  occasion;  presently  the  gay  throng  filed 
up  the  main  street  laden  with  provision  baskets.  Sid  was  sick  and  had  to  miss  the 
fun;  Mary  remained  at  home  to  entertain  him.  The  last  thing  Mrs.  Thatcher 
said  to  Becky,  was — 

"You'll  not  get  back  till  late.  Perhaps  you'd  better  stay  all  night  with  some 
of  the  girls  that  live  near  the  ferry  landing,  child." 

"  Then  I'll  stay  with  Susy  Harper,  mamma." 

"Very  well.     And  mind  and  behave  yourself  and  don't  be  any  trouble." 

Presently,  as  they  tripped  along,  Tom  said  to  Becky  : 

"Say — I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do.  'Stead  of  going  to  Joe  Harper's  we'll  climb 
right  up  the  hill  and  stop  at  the  Widow  Douglas's.  She'll  have  ice  cream  !  She 
has  it  most  every  day — dead  loads  of  it.  And  she'll  be.awful'glad  to  have  us." 

"  O,  that  will  be  fun  !  " 

Then  Becky  reflected  a  moment  and  said  : 

"  But  what  will  mamma  say?  " 

"  How'll  she  ever  know  ?  " 

The  girl  turned  the  idea  over  in  her  mind,  and  said  reluctantly: 

"  I  reckon  it's  wrong — but — " 

"But  shucks!  Your  mother  won't  know,  and  so  what's  the  harm?  All  she 
wants  is  that  you'll  be  safe;  and  I  bet  you  she'd  'a'  said  go  there  if  she'd  'a' 
thought  of  it.  I  know  she  would  !  " 

The  widow  Douglas's  splqndid  hospitality  was  a  tempting  bait.     It  and  Tom's 


THE  PIC-NIC.  219- 


persuasions  presently  carried  the  day.  So  it  was  decided  to  say  nothing  to  any- 
body about  the  night's  programme.  Presently  it  occurred  to  Tom  that  maybe 
Huck  might  come  this  very  night  and  give  the  signal.  The  thought  took  a  deal" 
of  the  spirit  out  of  his  anticipations.  Still  he  could  not  bear  to  give  up  the  fun  at 
Widow  Douglas's.  And  why  should  he  give  it  up,  he  reasoned — the  signal  did 
not  come  the  night  before,  so  why  should  it  be  any  more  likely  to  come  to-night? 
The  sure  fun  of  the  evening  outweighed  the  uncertain  treasure ;  and  boy  like,  he 
determined  to  yield  to  the  stronger  inclination  and  not  allow  himself  to  think  of 
the  box  of  money  another  time  that  day. 

Three  miles  below  town  the  ferry-boat  stopped  at  the  mouth  of  a  woody  hollow 
and  tied  up.  The  crowd  swarmed  ashore  and  soon  the  forest  distances  and 
craggy  heights  echoed  far  and  near  with  shoutings  and  laughter.  All  the  different 
ways  of  getting  hot  and  tired  were  gone  through  with,  and  by  and  by  the  rovers 
straggled  back  to  camp  fortified  with  responsible  appetites,  and  then  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  good  things  began.  After  the  feast  there  was  a  refreshing  season  of 
rest  and  chat  in  the  shade  of  spreading  oaks.  By  and  by  somebody  shouted — 

"  Who's  ready  for  the  cave  ?  " 

Everybody  was.  Bundles  of  candles  were  procured,  and  straightway  there  was 
a  general  scamper  up  the  hill..  The  mouth  of  the  cave  was  up  the  hillside — an 
opening  shaped  like  a  letter  A.  It's  massive  oaken  door  stood  unbarred.  Within 
was  a  small  chamber,  chilly  as  an  ice-house,  and  walled  by  Nature  with  solid 
limestone  that  was  dewy  with  a  cold  sweat.  It  was  romantic  and  mysterious  to 
stand  here  in  the  deep  gloom  and  look  out  upon  the  green  valley  shining  in  the 
sun.  But  the  impressiveness  of  the  situation  quickly  wore  off,  and  the  romping 
began  again.  The  moment  a  candle  was  lighted  there  was  a  general  rush  upon 
the  owner  of  it ;  a  struggle  and  a  gallant  defense  followed,  but  the  candle  was 
soon  knocked  down  or  blown  out,  and  then  there  was  a  glad  clamor  of  laughter 
and  a  new  chase.  But  all  things  have  an  end.  By  and  by  the  procession  went 
filing  down  the  steep  descent  of  the  main  avenue,  the  flickering  rank  of  lights 
dimly  revealing  the  lofty  walls  of  rock  almost  to  their  point  of  junction  sixty  feet 
overhead.  This  main  avenue  was  not  more  than  eight  or  ten  feet  wide.  Every 
few  steps  other  lofty  and  still  narrower  crevices  branched  from  it  on  either  hand 


TOM  SAWYER. 


—  for  McDougal's  cave  was  but  a  vast 
labyrinth  of  crooked  isles  that  ran  into 
each  other  and  out  again  and  led  nowhere. 
It  was  said  that  one  might  wander  days 
and  nights  together  through  its  intricate 
tangle  of  rifts  and  chasms,  and  never  find 
the  end  of  the  cave ;  and  that  he  might  go 
down,  and  down,  and  still  down,  into  the 
earth,  and  it  was  just  the  same — labyrinth 
underneath  labyrinth,  and  no  end  to  any  of 
them.  No  man  "  knew  "  the  cave.  That 
was  an  impossible  thing.  Most  of  the 
young  men  knew  a  portion  of  it,  and  it 
was  not  customary  to  venture  much  beyond 
this  known  portion.  Tom  Sawyer  knew  as 
much  of  the  cave  as  any  one. 

The  procession  moved  along  the  main 
avenue  some  three-quarters  of  a  mile,  and 
then  groups  and  couples  began  to  slip 
aside  into  branch  avenues,  fly  along  the 
dismal  corridors,  and  take  each  other  by 
surprise  at  points  where  the  corridors 
joined  again.  Parties  were  able  to  elude 
each  other  for  the  space  of  half  an  hour 
without  going  beyond  the  "known"  ground. 

By  and  by,  one  group  after  another  came 
straggling  back  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave, 
panting,  hilarious,  smeared  from  head  to 
foot  with  tallow  drippings,  daubed  with  clay, 
and  entirely  delighted  with  the  success  of 
the  day.  Then  they  were  astonished  to 
find  that  they  had  been  taking  no  note  of 


HUCK  ON  INDIAN  JOE^S  TRACK'. 


time  and  that  night  was  about  at  hand.  The  clanging  bell  had  been  calling  for 
half  an  hour.  However,  this  sort  of  close  to  the  day's  adventures  was  romantic 
and  therefore  satisfactory.  When  the  feruy-boat  with  her  wild  freight  pushed  into 
the  stream,  no"body  cared  sixpence  for  the  wasted  time  but  the  captain  of  the 
craft. 

Huck  was  already  upon  his  watch  when  the  ferry-boat's  lights  went  glinting  past 
the  wharf.  He  heard  no  noise  on  board,  for  the  young  people  were  as  subdued  and 
still  as  people  usually  are  who  are  nearly  tired  to  death.  He  wondered  what  boat 
it  was,  and  why  she  did  not  stop  at  the  wharf — and  then  he  dropped  her  out  of  his 
mind  and  put  his  attention  upon  his  business.  The  night  was  growing  cloudy  and 
dark.  Ten  o'clock  came,  and  the  noise  of  vehicles  ceased,  scattered  lights  began 
to  wink  out,  all  straggling  foot  passengers  disappeared,  the  village  betook  itself 
to  its  slumbers  and  left  the  small  watcher  alone  with  the  silence  and  the  ghosts. 
Eleven  o'clock  came,  and  the  tavern 
lights  were  put  out;  darkness  every- 
where, now.  Huck  waited  what  seemed 
a  weary  long  time,  but  nothing  happened. 
His  faith  was  weakening.  Was  there  any 
use  ?  Was  there  really  any  use  ?  Why 
not  give  it  up  and  turn  in  ? 

A  noise  fell  upon  his  ear.  He  was  all 
attention  in  an  instant.  The  alley  door 
closed  softly.  He  sprang  to  the  corner  of 
the  brick  store.  The  next  moment  two 
men  brushed  by  him,  and  one  seemed  to 
have  something  under  his  arm.  It  must 
be  that  box  !  So  they  were  going  to  re- 
move the  treasure.  Why  call  Tom  now  ? 
It  would  be  absurd — the  men  would  get 
away  with  the  box  and  never  be  found  HUUK  ON  DUTY- 

again.  No,  he  would  stick  to  their  wake  and  follow  them  ;  he  would  trust  to  the 
darkness  for  security  from  discovery.  So  communing  with  himself,  Huck  stepped 


TOM  SAWYER. 


•out  and  glided  along  behind  the  men,  cat-like,  with  bare  feet,  allowing  them  to 
keep  just  far  enough  ahead  not  to  be  invisible. 

They  moved  up  the  river  street  three^blocks,  then  turned  to  the  left  up  a  cross 
street.  They  went  straight  ahead,  then,  until  they  came  to  the  path  that  led  up 
Cardiff  Hill ;  this  they  took.  They  passed  by  the  old  Welchman's  house,  half  way 
up  the  hill  without  hesitating,  and  still  climbed  upward.  Good,  thought  Huck, 
they  will  bury  it  in  the  old  quarry.  But  they  never  stopped  at  the  quarry.  They 
passed  on,  up  the  summit.  They  plunged  into  the  narrow  path  between  the  tall 
.sumach  bushes,  and  were  at  once  hidden  in  the  gloom.  Huck  closed  up  and 
shortened  his  distance,  now,  for  they  would  never  be  able  to  see  him.  He  trotted 
along  a  while;  then  slackened  his  pace,  fearing  he  was  gaining  too  fast;  moved 
•on  a  piece,  then  stopped  altogether;  listened;  no  sound;  none,  save  that  he 
seemed  to  hear  the  beating  of  his  own  heart.  The  hooting  of  an  owl  came  from 
•over  the  hill — ominous  sound!  But  no  footsteps.  Heavens,  was  everything  lost! 
He  was  about  to  spring  with  winged  feet,  when  a  man  cleared  his  throat  not  four 
feet  from  him  !  Huck's  heart  shot  into  his  throat,  but  he  swallowed  it  again  ;  and 
then  he  stood  there  shaking  as  if  a  dozen  agues  had  taken  charge  of  him  at  once, 
and  so  weak  that  he  thought  he  must  surely  fall  to  the  ground.  He  knew  where 
he  was.  He  knew  he  was  within  five  steps  of  the  stile  leading  into  Widow  Doug- 
las's grounds.  Very  well,  he  thought,  let  them  bury  it  there  ;  it  won't  be  hard  to 
find. 

Now  there  was  a  voice — a  very  low  voice — Injun  Joe's  : 

"  Damn  her,  maybe  she's  got  company — there's  lights,  late  as  it  is." 

"I  can't  see  any." 

This  was  that  stranger's  voice — the  stranger  of  the  haunted  house.  A  deadly 
•chill  went  to  Huck's  heart — this,  then,  was  the  "revenge"  job!  His  thought  was, 
to  fly.  Then  he  remembered  that  the  Widow  Douglas  had  been  kind  to  him  more 
than  once,  and  maybe  these  men  were  going  to  murder  her.  He  wished  he  dared 
venture  to  warn  her ;  but  he  knevr  he  didn't  dare — they  might  come  and  catch 
"him.  He  thought  all  this  and  more  in  the  moment  that  elapsed  between  the 
stranger's  remark  and  Injun  Joe's  next — which  was — 

"Because  the  bush  is  in  your  way.     Now — this  way — now  you  see,  don't  you?" 


THE  "REVENGE"  JOB.  223 


"Yes.     Well  there  is  company  there,  I  reckon.     Better  give  it  up." 

"  Give  it  up,  and  I  just  leaving  this  country  forever !  Give  it  up  and  maybe 
never  have  another  chance.  I  tell  you  again,  as  I've  told  you  before,  I  don't  care 
for  her  swag — you  may  have  it.  But  her  husband  was  rough  on  me — many  times 
he  was  rough  on  me — and  mainly  he  was  the  justice  of  the  peace  that  jugged  me 
for  a  vagrant.  And  that  ain't  all.  It  ain't  a  millionth  part  of  it !  He  had  me 
horsewhipped! — horsewhipped  in  front  of  the  jail,  like  a  nigger! — with  all  the  town 
looking  on  !  HORSEWHIPPED  ! — do  you  understand  ?  He  took  advantage  of  me 
.and  died.  But  I'll  take  it  out  of  her" 

"  Oh,  don't  kill  her !     Don't  do  that !  " 

"Kill?  Who  said  anything  about  killing?  I  would  kill  him  if  he  was  here; 
but  not  her.  When  you  want  to  get  revenge  on  a  woman  you  don't  kill  her — 
bosh !  you  go  for  her  looks.  You  slit  her  nostrils — you  notch  her  ears  like  a 
:sow!" 

"  By  God,  that's—" 

"  Keep  your  opinion  to  yourself!  It  will  be  safest  for  you.  I'll  tie  her  to  the 
ted.  If  she  bleeds  to  death,  is  that  my  fault?  I'll  not  cry,  if  she  does.  My 
friend,  you'll  help  in  this  thing — for  my  sake — that's  why  you're  here — I  mightn't 
t>e  able  alone.  If  you  flinch,  I'll  kill  you.  Do  you  understand  that  ?  And  if  I 
/have  to  kill  you,  I'll  kill  her — and  then  I  reckon  nobody '11  ever  know  much  about 
•who  d'one  this  business." 

"  Well,  if  it's  got  to  be  done,  let's  get  at  it.  The  quicker  the  better — I'm  all  in 
a  shiver." 

"Do  it  nowl  And  company  there?  Look  here — I'll  get  suspicious  of  you, 
first  thing  you  know.  No — we'll  wait  till  the  lights  are  out — there's  no  hurry." 

Huck  felt  that  a  silence  was  going  to  ensue — a  thing  still  more  awful  than  any 
amount  of  murderous  talk ;  so  he  held  his  breath  and  stepped  gingerly  back ; 
planted  his  foot  carefully  and  firmly,  after  balancing,  one-legged,  in  a  precarious 
way  and  almost  toppling  over,  first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other.  He  took 
another  step  back,  with  the  same  elaboration  and  the  same  risks;  then  another 
and  another,  and — a  twig  snapped  under  his  foot !  His  breath  stopped  and  he 
listened.  There  was  no  sound — the  stillness  was  perfect.  His  gratitude  was 


224 


TOM  SAWYER. 


measureless.  Now  he  turned  in  his  tracks,  between  the  walls  of  sumach  bushes 
— turned  himself  as  carefully  as  if  he  were  a  ship — and  then  stepped  quickly  but 
cautiously  along.  When  he  emerged  at  the  quarry  he  felt  secure,  and  so  he  picked 
up  his  nimble  heels  and  flew.  Down,  down  he  sped,  till  he  reached  the  Welch- 


A    ROUSING    ACT. 

man's.  He  banged  at  the  door,  and  presently  the  heads  of  the  old  man  and  his-, 
two  stalwart  sons  were  thrust  from  windows. 

"What's  the  row  there  ?     Who's  banging?     What  do  you  want?  " 

"  Let  me  in — quick !     I'll  tell  everything." 

"  Why  who  are  you  ?  " 

"  Huckleberry  Finn — quick,  let  me  in  !  " 

"Huckleberry  Finn,  indeed!  It  ain't  a  name  to  open  many  doors,  I  judge  I- 
But  let  him  in,  lads,  and  let's  see  what's  the  trouble." 

"  Please  don't  ever  tell  /  told  you,"  were  Huck's  first  words  when  he  got  in. 


AID  FOR  THE   WIDOW.  225 


"  Please  don't — I'd  be  killed,  sure — but  the  Widow's  been  good  friends  to  me 
sometimes,  and  I  want  to  tell — I  will  tell  if  you'll  promise  you  won't  ever  say  it 
was  me." 

"  By  George  he  has  got  something  to  tell,  or  he  wouldn't  act  so !  "  exclaimed 
the  old  man;  "out  with  it  and  nobody  here '11  ever  tell,  lad." 

Three  minutes  later  the  old  man  and  his  sons,  well  armed,  were  up  the  hill,  and 
just  entering  the  sumach  path  on  tip-toe,  their  weapons  in  their  hands.  Huck 
accompanied  them  no  further.  He  hid  behind  a  great  bowlder  and  fell  to  listen- 
ing. Th.ere  was  a  lagging,  anxious  silence,  and  then  all  of  a  sudden  there  was  an 
explosion  of  firearms  and  a  cry. 

Huck  waited  for  no  particulars.  He  sprang  away  and  sped  down  the  hill  as 
fast  as  his  legs  could  carry  him. 


the  earliest  suspicion  of  dawn  ap- 
peared on  Sunday  morning,  Huck 
came  groping  up  the  hill  and  rapped 
gently  at  the  old  Welchman's  door. 
The  inmates  were  asleep  but  it  was 
a  sleep  that  was  set  on  a  hair-trigger, 
on  account  of  the  exciting  episode 
of  the  night.  A  call  came  from  a 
window — 

"Who's  there!  " 

Huck's  scared  voice  answered  in  a 
low  tone : 

"  Please  let  me  in  !  It's  only  Huck 
Finn  !  " 

"  It's  a  name  that  can  open  this  door 
night  or  day,  lad ! — and  welcome  !  " 

These  were  strange  words  to  the 
vagabond  boy's  ears,  and  the  pleasantest  he  had  ever  heard.  He  could  not  rec- 
ollect that  the  closing  word  had  ever  been  applied  in  his  case  before.  The  door 

226 


THE   WELCHMAN  REPORTS. 


227 


was  quickly  unlocked,  and  he  entered.     Huck  was  given  a  seat  and   the  old  man 
and  his  brace  of  tall  sons  speedily  dressed  themselves. 

"  Now  my  boy  I  hope  you're  good  and  hungry,  because  breakfast  will  be  ready 
as  soon  as  the  sun's  up,  and  we'll  have  a  piping  hot  one,  too — make  yourself  easy 
about  that !  I  and  the  boys  hoped  you'd  turn  up  and  stop  here  last  night." 

"  I  was  awful  scared,"  said  Huck,  "  and  I  run.  I  took  out  when  the  pistols 
went  off,  and  I  didn't  stop  for  three  mile.  I've  come  now  becuz  I  wanted  to  know 
about  it,  you  know;  and  I  come  before  daylight  becuz  I  didn't  want  to  run  acrost 
them  devils,  even  if  they  was  dead." 

"Well,  poor  chap,  you  do  look  as  if  you'd  had  a  hard  night  of  it — but  there's 
a  bed  here  for  you  when  you've  had  your 
breakfast.  No,  they  ain't  dead,  lad — we 
are  sorry  enough  for  that.  You  see  we 
knew  right  where  to  put  our  hands  on 
them,  by  your  description ;  so  we  crept 
along  on  tip-toe  till  we  got  within  fifteen 
feet  of  them — dark  as  a  cellar  that  sumach 
path  was — and  just  then  I  found  I  was 
going  to  sneeze.  It  was  the  meanest  kind 
of  luck  !  I  tried  to  keep  it  back,  but  no 
use — 'twas  bound  to  come,  and  it  did 
come  !  I  was  in  the  lead  with  my  pistol 
raised,  and  when  the  sneeze  started  those 
scoundrels  a-rustling  to  get  out  of  the 
path,  I  sung  out,  '  Fire,  boys ! '  and  blazed 
away  at  the  place  where  the  rustling  was. 
So  did  the  boys.  But  they  were  off  in  a  BESULT  OF  A  SNEEZE. 

jiffy,  those  villains,  and  we  after  them,  down  through  the  woods.  I  judge  we 
never  touched  them.  They  fired  a  shot  apiece  as  they  started,  but  their  bullets 
whizzed  by  and  didn't  do  us  any  harm.  As  soon  as  we  lost  the  sound  of  their 
feet  we  quit  chasing,  and  went  down  and  stirred  up  the  constables.  They  got 
a  posse  together,  and  went  off  to  guard  the  river  bank,  and  as  soon  as  it  is 


228  TOM  SA  W  YRR. 


light  the  sheriff  and  a  gang  are  going  to  beat  up  the  woods.  My  boys  will  be 
with  them  presently.  I  wish  we  had  some  sort  of  description  of  those  rascals — 
'twould  help  a  good  deal.  But  you  could'nt  see  what  they  were  like,  in  the  dark> 
lad,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  O,  yes,  I  saw  them  down  town  and  follered  them." 
"  Splendid  !     Describe  them — describe  them,  my  boy  !  " 

"  One's  the  old  deaf  and  dumb  Spaniard  that's  ben  around  here  once  or  twice,, 
and  t'other's  a  mean  looking  ragged — " 

"That's  enough,  lad,  we  know  the  men!  Happened  on  them  in  the  woods- 
back  of  the  widow's  one  day,  and  they  slunk  away.  Off  with  you,  boys,  and  tell 
the  sheriff — get  your  breakfast  to-morrow  morning  I  " 

The  Welchman's  sons  departed  at  once.  As.  they  were  leaving  the  room  Huc'k 
sprang  up  and  exclaimed  : 

"  Oh,  please  don't  tell  anybody  it  was  me  that  blowed  on  them  !     Oh,  please  !  " 
"  All  right  if  you  say  it,  Huck,  but  you  ought  to  have  the  credit  of  what  you  did."1 
"  Oh,  no,  no  !     Please  don't  tell !  " 

When  the  young  men  were  gone,  the  old  Welchman  said — 
"  They  won't  tell — and  I  won't.     But  why  don't  you  want  it  known  ?  " 
Huck  would  not   explain,  further  than  to  say  that  he  already  knew  too  much 
about  one  of  those  men  and  would  not  have  the  man  know  that  he  knew  anything 
against  him  for  the  whole  world — he  would  be  killed  for  knowing  it,  sure. 
The  old  man  promised  secrecy  once  more,  and  said  : 

"How  did  you  come  to  follow  these  fellows,  lad  ?    Were  they  looking  suspicious  ?"' 

Huck  was  silent  while  he  framed  a  duly  cautious  reply.     Then  he  said  : 

"  Well,  you  see,  I'm  a  kind  of  a  hard  lot, — least  everybody  says  so,  and  I  don't 

see  nothing  agin  it — and  sometimes  I  can't  sleep  much,  on  accounts  of  thinking 

about  it  and  sort  of  trying  to  strike  out  a  new  way  of  doing.     That  was  the  way 

of  it  last  night.     I  couldn't  sleep,  and  so  I  come  along  up  street  'bout  midnight, 

a-turning  it   all   over,  and  when  I  got  to  that  old   shackly  brick  store  by  the 

Temperance  Tavern,  I  backed  up  agin  the  wall  to  have  another  think.     Well,  just 

then  along   comes  these  two  chaps  slipping  along  close  by  me,  with -something 

under  their  arm  and  I  reckoned  they'd  stole  it.     One  was  a-smoking,  and   t'other 


HUCK  UNDER  FIRE. 


229 


one  wanted  a  light ;  so  they  stopped  right  before  me  and  the  cigars  lit  up  their 
faces  and  I  see  that  the  big  one  was  the  deaf  and  dumb  Spaniard,  by  his  white 
whiskers  and  the  patch  on  his  eye,  and  t'other  one  was  a  rusty,  ragged  looking 
devil." 

"  Could  you  see  the  rags  by  the  light  of  the  cigars?  " 

This  staggered  Huck  for  a  moment.     Then  he  said  : 

"  Well,  I  don't  know — but  somehow  it  seems  as  if  I  did." 

"  Then  they  went  on,  and  you — " 

"  Follered  'em — yes.  That  was  it.  I  wanted  to  see  what  was  up — they  sneaked 
along  so.  I  dogged  'em  to  the  widder's  stile,  and  stood  in  the  dark  and  heard  the 
ragged  one  beg  for  the  widder,  and  the  Spaniard  swear  he'd  spile  her  looks  just 
as  I  told  you  and  your  two — " 

"  What !  The  deaf  and  dumb  man  said 
.all  that !  " 

Huck  had  made  another  terrible  mistake  ! 
He  was  trying  his  best  to  keep  the  old  man 
from  getting  the  faintest  hint  of  who  the 
Spaniard  might  be,  and  yet  his  tongue 
seemed  determined  to  get  him  into  trouble 
in  spite  of  all  he  could  do.  He  made  sev- 
eral efforts  to  creep  out  of  his  scrape,  but 
the  old  man's  eye  was  upon  him  and  he 
made  blunder  after  blunder.  Presently  the 
Welchman  said : 

"My   boy,    don't   be  afraid  of    me.      I 
wouldn't  hurt  a  hair  of  your  head  for  all 
the  world.     No — I'd  protect  you — I'd  pro- 
tect you.     This  Spaniard  is  not  deaf  and 
dumb ;  you've  let  that  slip  without  intend- 
ing it;  you  can't  cover  that  up  now.     You  know  something  about  that   Spaniard 
that  you  want  to  keep  dark.     Now  trust  me — tell  me  what  it  is,  and  trust  me — I 
won't  betray  you." 


230  TOM  SAWYER. 


Huck  looked  into  the  old  man's  honest  eyes  a  moment,  then  bent  over  and 
whispered  in  his  ear — 

"  'Tain't  a  Spaniard — it's  Injun  Joe  !  " 

The  Welchman  almost  jumped  out  of  his  chair.     In  a  moment  he  said: 

"  It's  all  plain  enough,  now.  When  you  talked  about  notching  ears  and  slitting 
noses  I  judged  that  that  was  your  own  embellishment,  because  white  men  don't 
take  that  sort  of  revenge.  But  an  Injun  !  That's  a  different  matter  altogether." 

During  breakfast  the  talk  went  on,  and  in  the  course  of  it  the  old  man  said  that 
the  last  thing  which  he  and  his  sons  had  done,  before  going  to  bed,  was  to  get  a 
lantern  and  examine  the  stile  and  its  vicinity  for  marks  of  blood.  They  found 
none,  but  captured  a  bulky  bundle  of — 

"Of  WHAT?" 

If  the  words  had  been  lightning  they  could  not  have  leaped  with  a  more  stun- 
ning suddenness  from  Huck's  blanched  lips.  His  eyes  were  staring  wide,  now 
and  his  breath  suspended — waiting  for  the  answer.  The  Welchman  starte 
stared  in  return — three  seconds — five  seconds — ten — then  replied — 

"  Of  burglar's  tools.     Why  what's  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

Huck  sank  back,  panting  gently,  but  deeply,  unutterably  grateful.  The  Welch- 
man eyed  him  gravely,  curiously — and  presently  said — 

"  Yes,  burglar's  tools.  That  appears  to  relieve  you  a  good  deal.  But  what  did 
give  you  that  turn  ?  What  \\&i&  you  expecting  we'd  found  ?  " 

Huck  was  in  a  close  place — the  inquiring  eye  was  upon  him — he  would  have 
given  anything  for  material  for  a  plausible  answer — nothing  suggested  itself — the 
inquiring  eye  was  boring  deeper  and  deeper — a  senseless  reply  offered — there  was 
no  time  to  weigh  it,  so  at  a  venture  he  uttered  it — feebly: 

"  Sunday-school  books,  maybe." 

Poor  Huck  was  too  distressed  to  smile,  but  the  old  man  laughed  loud  and  joy- 
ously, shook  up  the  details  of  his  anatomy  from  head  to  foot,  and  ended  by  saying 
that  such  a  laugh  was  money  in  a  man's  pocket,  because  it  cut  down  the  doctor's 
bills  like  everything.  Then  he  added  : 

"  Popr  old  chap,  you're  white  and  jaded — you  ain't  well  a  bit — no  wonder 
you're  a  little  flighty  and  off  your  balance.  But  you'll  come  out  of  it.  Rest  and 
sleep  will  fetch  you  out  all  right,  I  hope." 


THE  STORY  CIRCULATED.  231 


Huck  was  irritated  to  think  he  had  been  such  a  goose  and  betrayed  such  a  sus- 
picious excitement,  for  he  had  dropped  the  idea  that  the  parcel  brought  from  the 
tavern  was  the  treasure,  as  soon  as  he  had  heard  the  talk  at  the  widow's  stile. 
He  had  only  thought  it  was  not  the  treasure,  however — he  had  not  known  that  it 
wasn't  — and  so  the  suggestion  of  a  captured  bundle  was  too  much  for  his  self- 
possession.  But  on  the  whole  he  felt  glad  the  little  episode  had  happened,  for 
now  he  knew  beyond  all  question  that  that  bundle  was  not  the  bundle,  and  so  his 
mind  was  at  rest  and  exceedingly  comfortable.  In  fact  everything  seemed  to  be 
drifting  just  in  the  right  direction,  now;  the  treasure  must  be  still  in  No.  2,  the 
men  would  be  captured  and  jailed  that  day,  and  he  and  Tom.  could  seize  the  gold 
that  night  without  any  trouble  or  any  fear  of  interruption. 

Just  as  breakfast  was  completed  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door.  Huck  jumped 
for  a  hiding  place,  for  he  had  no  mind  to  be  connected  even  remotely  with  the  late 
event.  The  Welchman  admitted  several  ladies  and  gentlemen,  among  them  the 
widow  Douglas,  and  noticed  that  groups  of  citzens  were  climbing  up  the  hill — to 
stare  at  the  stile.  So  the  news  had  spread. 

The  Welchman  had  to  tell  the  story  of  the  night  to  the  visitors.  The  widow's 
gratitude  for  her  preservation  was  outspoken. 

"  Don't  say  a  word  about  it  madam.  There's  another  that  you're  more  beholden 
to  than  you  are  to  me  and  my  boys,  maybe,  but  he  don't  allow  me  to  tell  his  name. 
We  wouldn't  have  been  there  but  for  him." 

Of  course  this  excited  a  curiosity  so  vast  that  it  almost  belittled  the  main 
matter— but  the  Welchman  allowed  it  to  eat  into  the  vitals  of  his  visitors,  and 
through  them  be  transmitted  to  the  whole  town,  for  he  refused  to  part  with  his 
secret.  When  all  else  had  been  learned,  the  widow  said : 

"I  went  to  sleep  reading  in  bed  and  slept  straight  through  all  that  noise.  Why 
didn't  you  come  and  wake  me  ?  " 

"We  judged  it  warn't  worth  while.'  Those  fellows  warn't  likely  to  come  again — 
they  hadn't  any  tools  left  to  work  with,  and  what  was  the  use  of  waking  you  up 
and  scaring  you  to  death  ?  My  three  negro  men  stood  guard  at  your  house  all  the 
rest  of  the  night.  They've' just  come  back." 

More  visitors  came,  and  the  story  had  to  be  told  and  re-told  for  a  couple  of 
hours  more. 


TOM  SAWYER. 


There  was  no  Sabbath-school  during  day-school  vacation,  but  everybody  was 
early  at  church.  The  stirring  event  was  well  canvassed.  News  came  that  not  a 
sign  of  the  two  villains  had  been  yet  discovered.  When  the  sermon  was  finished, 
Judge  Thatcher's  wife  dropped  alongside  of  Mrs.  Harper  as  she  moved  down  the 
aisle  with  the  crowd  and  said  : 

"  Is  my  Becky  going  to  sleep  all  day  ?  I  just  expected  she  would  be  tired  to 
death." 

"  Your  Becky  ?  " 

"Yes,"  with  a  startled  look, — "  didn't  she  stay  with  you  last  night?" 

"Why,  no." 

Mrs.  Thatcher  turned  pale,  and  sank  into 
a  pew,  just  as  Aunt  Polly,  talking  briskly 
with  a  friend,  passed  by.  Aunt  Polly  said : 
"  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Thatcher.  Good 
morning  Mrs.  Harper.  I've  got  a  boy  that's 
turned  up  missing.  I  reckon  my  Tom  staid 
at  your  house  last  night — one  of  you.  And 
now  he's  afraid  to  come  to  church.  I've 
got  to  settle  with  him." 

Mrs.  Thatcher  shook  her  head  feebly  and 
turned  paler  than  ever. 

"  He  didn't  stay  with  us,"  said  Mrs.  Har- 
per, beginning  to  look  uneasy.  A  marked 
anxiety  came  into  Aunt  Polly's  face. 

"  Joe  Harper,  have  you  seen  my  Tom  this 
morning?  " 
"  No'm." 

"When    did    you   .see    him    last?" 

Joe  tried  to  remember,  but  was  not  sure  he  could  say.  The  people  had  stopped 
moving  out  of  church.  Whispers  passed  along,  and  a  boding  uneasiness  took 
possession  of  every  countenance.  Children  were  anxiously  questioned,  and  young 
teachers.  They  all  said  they  had  not  noticed  whether  Tom  and  Becky  were  on 
board  the  ferry-boat  on  the  homeward  trip;  it  was  dark;  no  one  thought  of 


ALARMING    DISCOVERIES. 


A  NE  W  SENSA  TION. 


233 


inquiring  if  any  one'  was  missing.  One  young  man  finally  blurted  out  his  fear 
that  they  were  still  in  the  cave  !  Mrs.  Thatcher  swooned  away.  Aunt  Polly  fell 
to  crying  and  wringing  her  hands.  « 

The  alarm  swept  from  lip  to  lip,  from  group  to  group,  from  street  to  street,  and 
within  five  minutes  the  bells  were  wildly  clanging  and  the  whole  town  was  up ! 
The  Cardiff  Hill  episode  sank  into  instant  insignificance,  the  burglars  were  for- 
gotten, horses  were  saddled,  skiffs  were  manned,  the  ferry-boat  ordered  out,  and 


TOM    AND    BECKY    STIR    UP    THE    TOWN. 

before  the  horror  was  half  an  hour  old,  two  hundred  men  were  pouring  down 
high-road  and  river  toward  the  cave. 

All  the  long  afternoon  the  village  seemed  empty  and  dead.  Many  women 
visited  Aunt  Polly  and>  Mrs.  Thatcher  and  tried  to  comfort  them.  They  cried 
with  them,  too,  and  that  was  still  better  than  words.  All  the  tedious  night  the 
town  waited  for  news;  but  when  the  morning  dawned  at  last,  all  the  word  that 
came  was,  "  Send  more  candles — and  send  food."  Mrs.  Thatcher  was  almost 


234 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


crazed ;  and  Aunt  Polly  also.  Judge  Thatcher  sent  messages  of  hope  and  en- 
couragement from  the  cave,  but  they  conveyed  no  real  cheer. 

The  old  Welchrhan  came  home  toward  «day  light,  spattered  with  candle  grease, 
smeared  with  clay,  and  almost  worn  out.  He  found  Huck  still  in  the  bed  that 
had  been  provided  for  him,  and  delirious  with  fever.  The  physicians  were  all  at 
the  cave,  so  the  Widow  Douglas  came  and  took  charge  of  the  patient.  She  said 
she  would  do  her  best  by  him,  because,  whether  he  was  good,  bad,  or  indifferent, 
he  was  the  Lord's,  and  nothing  that  was  the  Lord's  was  a  thing  to  be  neglected. 
The  Welchman  said  Huck  had  good  spots  in  him,  and  the  widow  said — 

"You  can  depend  on  it.     That's  the  Lord's  mark.     He  don't  leave  it  off.     He 
never  does.     Puts  it  somewhere  on  every  creature  that  comes  from  his  hands." 
Early  in  the  forenoon  parties  of  jaded  men  began  to  straggle  into  the  village,  but 

the  strongest  of  the  citizens  continued 
searching.  All  the  news  that  could  be 
gained  was  that  remotenesses  of  the  cav- 
ern were  being  ransacked  that  had  never 
been  visited  before;  that  every  corner 
and  crevice  was  going  to  be  thoroughly 
searched;  that  wherever  one  wandered 
through  the  maze  of  passages,  lights  were 
to  be  seen  flitting  hither  and  thither  in 
•  the  distance,  and  shoutings  and  pistol 
shots  sent  their  hollow  reverberations  to 
the  ear  down  the  sombre  aisles.  In  one 
place,  far  from  the  section  usually  trav- 
ersed by  tourists,  the  names  "BECKY  & 
TOM  "  had  been  found  traced  upon  the 
rocky  wall  with  candle  smoke,  and  near 
TOM'S  MAUK.  at  hand  a  grease-soiled  bit  of  ribbon. 

Mrs.  Thatcher  recognized  the  ribbon  and  cried  over  it.  She  said  it  was  the  last 
relic  she  should  ever  have  of  her  child;  and  that  no  other  memorial  of  her  could 
ever  be  so  precious,  because  this  one  parted  latest  from  the  living  body  before  the 
awful  death  came.  Some  said  that  now  and  then,  in  the  cave,  a  far-away  speck 


HOPE  GIVING   WA  Y  TO  DESPAIR. 


235 


of  light  would  glimmer,  and  then  a  glorious  shout  would  burst  forth  and  a  score 
of  men  go  trooping  down  the  echoing  aisle — and  then  a  sickening  disappointment 
always  followed  ;  the  children  were  not  there  \  it  was  only  a  searcher's  light. 

Three  dreadful  days  and  nights  dragged  their  tedious  hours  along,  and  the 
village  sank  into  a  hopeless  stupor.  No  one  had  heart  for  anything.  The  acci- 
dental discovery,  just  made,  that  the  pro- 
prietor of  the  Temperance  Tavern  kept 
liquor  on  his  premises,  scarcely  fluttered 
the  public  pulse,  tremendous  as  the  fact 
was.  In  a  lucid  interval,  Huck  feebly  led 
up  to  the  subject  of  taverns,  and  finally 
asked — dimly  dreading  the  worst — if  any- 
thing had  been  discovered  at  the  Temper- 
ance Tavern  since  he  had  been  ill? 

"  Yes,"  said  the  widow. 

Huck  started  up  in  bed,  wild-eyed: 

"What!     What  was  it?" 

"  Liquor! — and  the  place  has  been  shut 
up.  Lie  down,  child — what  a  turn  you  did 
give  me  !  " 

"  Only  tell  me  just  one  thing — only  just 
one — please !  Was  it  Tom  Sawyer  that 
found  it  ?  " 

The  widow  burst  into  tears.  "  Hush,  hush,  child,  hush!  I've  told  you  before, 
you  must  not  talk.  You  are  very,  very  sick !  " 

Then  nothing  but  liquor  had  been  found;  there  would  have  been  a  great  pow- 
wow if  it  had  been  the  gold.  So  the  treasure  was  gone  forever — gone  forever  ! 
But  what  could  she  be  crying  about?  Curious  that  she  should  cry. 

These  thoughts  worked  their  dim  way  through  Huck's  mind,  and  under  the 
weariness  they  gave  him  he  fell  asleep.  The  widow  said  to  herself: 

"  There — he's  asleep,  poor  wreck.  Tom  Sawyer  find  it !  Pity  but  somebody 
could  find  Tom  Sawyer!  Ah,  there  ain't  many  left,  now,  that's  got  hope  enough, 
or  strength  enough,  either,  to  go  on  searching." 


HUCK    QUESTIONS    THE    WIDOW. 


*•• 


to  return  to  Tom  and  Becky's 
share  in  the  pic-nic.  They  tripped 
along  the  murky  aisles  with  the  rest 
of  the  company,  visiting  the  famil- 
iar wonders  of  the  cave — wonders 
dubbed  with  rather  over-descriptive 
names,  such  as  "  The  Drawing- 
Room,"  "The  Cathedral,"  "Alad- 
din's Palace,"  and  so  on.  Presently 
the  hide-and-seek  frolicking  began, 
and  Tom  and  Becky  engaged  in  it 
with  zeal  until  the  exertion  began  to 
grow  a  trifle  wearisome;  then  they 
wandered  down  a  sinuous  avenue 
holding  their  candles  aloft  and  read- 
ing the  tangled  web-work  of  names, 
dates,  post-office  addresses  and  mot- 
toes with  which  the  rocky  walls  had 
been  frescoed  (in  candle  smoke.)  Still  drifting  along  and  talking,  they  scarcely 
noticed  that  they  were  now  in  a  part  of  the  cave  whose  walls  were  not  frescoed. 

236 


AN  EXPLORING  EXPEDITION. 


237 


They  smoked  their  own  names  under  an  overhanging  shelf  and  moved  on. 
Presently  they  came  to  a  place  where  a  little  stream  of  water,  trickling  over  a 
ledge  and  carrying  a  limestone  sediment  with  it,  had,  in  the  slow-dragging 
ages,  formed  a  laced  and  ruffled  Niagara  in  gleaming  and  imperishable  stone. 
Tom  squeezed  his  small  body  behind  it  in  order  to  illuminate  it  for  Becky's 
gratification.  He  found  that  it  cur- 
tained a  sort  of  steep  natural  stairway 
which  was  enclosed  between  narrow 
walls,  and  at  once  the  ambition  to  be  a 
discoverer  seized  him.  Becky  respond- 
ed to  his  call,  and  they  made  a  smoke- 
mark  for  future  guidance,  and  started 
upon  their  quest.  They  wound  this 
way  and  that,  far  down  into  the  secret 
depths  of  the  cave,  made  another  mark, 
and  branched  off  in  search  of  novelties 
to  tell  the  upper  world  about.  In  one 
place  they  found  a  spacious  cavern, 
from  whose  ceiling  depended  a  multi- 
tude of  shining  stalactites  of  the  length 
and  circumference  of  a  man's  leg;  they 
walked  all  about  it,  wondering  and  ad- 
miring, and  presently  left  it  by  one  of 
the  numerous  passages  that  opened 
into  it.  This  shortly  brought  them  to 
a  bewitching  spring,  whose  basin  was 
encrusted  with  a  frost  work  of  glitter- 
ing crystals;  it  was  in  the  midst  of  a 
cavern  whose  walls  were  supported  by  many  fantastic  pillars  which  had  been 
formed  by  the  joining  of  great  stalactites  and  stalagmites  together,  the  result 
of  the  ceaseless  water-drip  of  centuries.  Under  the  roof  vast  knots  of  bats 
had  packed  themselves  together,  thousands  in  a  bunch ;  the  lights  disturbed 


\VONUEKi?  OF    THE    CAVE. 


238  TOM  SAWYER. 


the  creatures  and  they  came  flocking  down  by  hundreds,  squeaking  and  dart- 
ing furiously  at  the  candles.  Tom  knew  their  ways  and  the  danger  of  this  sort 
of  conduct.  He  siezed  Becky's  hand  and  hurried  her  into  the  first  corridor 
that  offered;  and  none  too  soon,  for  a  bat  struck  Becky's  light  out  with  its 


ATTACKED    BY    NATIVES. 


wing  while  she  was  passing  out  of  the  cavern.  The  bats  chased  the  children 
a  good  distance;  but  the  fugitives  plunged  into  every  new  passage  that  offered, 
and  at  last  got  rid  of  the  perilous  things.  Tom  found  a  subterranean  lake, 
shortly,  which  stretched  its  dim  length  away  until  its  shape  was  lost  in  the 
shadows.  He  wanted  to  explore  its  borders,  but  concluded  that  it  would  be 


TROUBLE  COMMENCES.  239 


best  to  sit  down  and  rest  a  while,  first.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  the  deep  stillness 
of  the  place  laid  a  clammy  hand  upon  the  spirits  of  the  children.  Becky  said — 

"  Why,  I  didn't  notice,  but  it  seems  ever  so  long  since  I  heard  any  of  the 
others." 

"  Come  to  think,  Becky,  w.e  are  away  down  below  them — and  I  don't  know 
how  far  away  north,  or  south,  or  east,  or  whichever  it  is.  We  couldn't  hear 
them  here." 

Becky  grew  apprehensive. 

"  I  wonder  how  long  we've  been  down  here,  Tom.     We  better  start  back." 

"  Yes,  I  reckon  we  better.     P'raps  we  better." 

"  Can  you  find  the  way,  Tom?     It's  all  a  mixed-up  crookedness  to  me." 

"  I  reckon  I  could  find  it — but  then  the  bats.  If  they  put  both  our  candles 
out  it  will  be  an  awful  fix.  Let's  try  some  other  way,  so  as  not  to  go  through 
there." 

"Well.  But  I  hope  we  won't  get  lost.  It  would  be  so  awful!"  and  the 
girl  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  the  dreadful  possibilities. 

They  started  through  a  corridor,  and  traversed  it  in  silence  a  long  way, 
glancing  at  each  new  opening,  to  see  if  there  was  anything  familiar  about  the 
look  of  it ;  but  they  were  all  strange.  Every  time  Tom  made  an  examination, 
Becky  would  watch  his  face  for  an  encouraging  sign,  and  he  would  say 
cheerily — 

"  Oh,  it's  all  right.     This  ain't  the  one,  but  we'll  come  to  it  right  away!  " 

But  he  felt  less  and  less  hopeful  with  each  failure,  and  presently  began  to 
turn  off  into  diverging  avenues  at  sheer  random,  in  desperate  hope  of  finding 
the  one  that  was  wanted!  He  still  said  it  was  "  all  right,"  but  there  was  such 
,a  leaden  dread  at  his  heart,  that  the  words  had  lost  their  ring  and  sounded  just 
.as  if  he  had  said,  "All  is  lost!  "  Becky  clung  to  his  side  in  an  anguish  of  fear, 
and  tried  hard  to  keep  back  the  tears,  but  they  would  come.  At  last  she  said: 

"  O,  Tom,  never  mind  the  bats,  let's  go  back  that  way !  We  seem  to  get 
worse  and  worse  off  all  the  time." 

Tom  stopped. 

"  Listen  !  "  said  he. 


240 


TOM  SAWYER. 


Profound  silence ;  silence  so  deep  that  even  their  breathings  were  conspicuous 
in  the  hush.  Tom  shouted.  The  call  went  echoing  down  the  empty  aisles  and 
died  out  in  the  distance  in  a  faint  sound  that  resembled  a  ripple  of  mocking 
laughter. 

"  Oh,  don't  do  it  again,  Tom,  it  is  too  horrid,"  said  Becky. 
"  It  is  horrid,  but  I  better,  Becky ;  they  might  hear  us,  you  know  "  and  he 
shouted  again. 

The  "  might  "  was  even  a  chillier  horror  than  the  ghostly  laughter,  it  so  con- 
fessed a  perishing  hope.  The  children  stood  still  and  listened;  but  there  was 
no  result.  Tom  turned  upon  the  back  track  at  once,  and  hurried  his  steps. 
It  was  but  a  little  while  before  a  certain  indecision  in  his  manner  revealed 

another  fearful  fact  to  Becky — he  could 
not  find  his  way  back  ! 

"O,  Tom,  you  didn't  make  any  marks !  '" 
"  Becky  I   was  such  a  fool !     Such  a 
fool !     I  never  thought  we  might  want 
to   come   back!     No — I    can't   find    the 
way.     It's  all  mixed  up." 

"Tom,  Tom,  we're  lost!  we're  lost! 
We  never  can  get  out  of  this  awful 
place!  O,  why  did  we  ever  leave  the 
others ! " 

She  sank  to  the  ground  and  burst  into 
such  a  frenzy  of  crying  that  Tom  was 
appalled  with  the  idea  that  she  might 
die,  or  lose  her  reason.  He  sat  down 
by  her  and  put  his  arms  around  her; 
she  buried  her  face  in  his  bosom,  she 


clung  to. him,  she  poured  out  her  terrors,  her  unavailing  regrets,  and  the 
far  echoes  turned  them  all  to  jeering  laughter.  Tom  begged  her  to  pluck  up 
hope  again,  and  she  said  she  could  not.  lie  fell  to  blaming  and  abusing 
himself  for  getting  her  into  this  miserable  situation  ;  this  had  a  better  effect. 


LOST  IN  THE  CA  VE.  241 


She  said  she  would  try  to  hope  again,  she  would  get  up  and  follow  wherever 
he  might  lead  if  only  he  would  not  talk  like  that  any  more.  For  he  was  no 
more  to  blame  than  she,  she  said. 

So  they  moved  on,  again — aimlessly — simply  at  random — all  they  could  do 
was  to  move,  keep  moving.  For  a  little  while,  hope  made  a  show  of  reviving — 
not  with  any  reason  to  back  it,  but  only  because  it  is  its  nature  to  revive  when 
the  spring  has  not  been  taken  out  of  it  by  age  and  familiarity  with  failure. 

By  and  by.  Tom  took  Becky's  candle  and  blew  it  out.  This  economy  meant 
so  much !  Words  were  not  needed.  Becky  understood,  and  her  hope  died 
again.  She  knew  that  Tom  had  a  whole  candle  and  three  or  four  pieces  in  his 
pockets — yet  he  must  economise. 

By  and  by,  fatigue  began  to  assert  its  claims;  the  children  tried  to  pay  no 
attention,  for  it  was  dreadful  to  think  of  sitting  down  when  time  was  grown 
to  be  so  precious;  moving,  in  some  direction,  in  any  direction,  was  at  least 
progress  and  might  bear  fruit;  but  to  sit  down  was  to  invite  death  and  .shorten 
its  pursuit. 

At  last  Becky's  frail  limbs  refused  to  carry  her  farther.  She  sat  down.  Tom 
rested  with  her,  and  they  talked  of  home,  and  the  friends  there,  and  the  com- 
fortable beds  and  above  all,  the  light!  Becky  cried,  and  Tom  tried  to  think  of 
some  way  of  comforting  her,  but  all  his  encouragements  were  grown  thread- 
bare with  use,  and  sounded  like  sarcasms.  Fatigue  bore  so  heavily  upon 
Becky  that  she  drowsed  off  to  sleep.  Tom  was  grateful.  He  sat  looking  into 
her  drawn  face  and  saw  it  grow  smooth  and  natural  under  the  influence  of 
pleasant  dreams;  and  by  and  by  a  smile  dawned  and  rested  there.  The  peace- 
ful face  reflected  somewhat  of  peace  and  healing  into  his  own  spirit,  and  his 
thoughts  wandered  away  to  by-gone  times  and  dreamy  memories.  While  he 
was  deep  in  his  musings,  Becky  woke  up  with  a  breezy  little  laugh — but  it  was 
stricken  dead  upon  her  lips,  and  a  groan  followed  it. 

"  Oh,  how  could  I  sleep  !  I  wish  I  never,  never  had  waked  !  No !  No,  I 
don't,  Tom !  Don't  look  so !  I  won't  say  it  again." 

"I'm  glad  you've  slept,  Becky;  you'll  feel  rested,  now,  and  we'll  find  the 
way  out." 

16 


242 


TOM  SA  W  YER. 


"We  can  try,  Tom;  but  I've  seen  such  a  beautiful  country  in  my  dream.     I 
reckon  we  are  going  there." 

"  Maybe  not,  maybe  not.  Cheer  up,  Becky,  and  let's  go  on  trying." 
They  rose  up  and  wandered  along,  hand  in  hand  and  hopeless.  They  tried 
to  estimate  how  long  they  had  been  in  the  cave,  but  all  they  knew  was  that  it 
seemed  days  and  weeks,  and  yet  it  was  plain  that  this  could  not  be,  for  their 
candles  were  not  gone  yet.  A  long  time  after  this  —  they  could  not  tell  how 
long  —  Tom  said  they  must  go  softly  and  listen  for  dripping  water—  they  must 
find  a  spring.  They  found  one  presently,  and  Tom  said  it  was  time  to  rest 
again.  Both  were  cruelly  tired,  yet  Becky  said  she  thought  she  could  go  on  a 
little  farther.  She  was  surprised  to  hear  Tom  dissent.  She  could  not  under- 
stand it.  They  sat  down,  and  Tom  fastened  his  candle  to  the  wall  in  front  of 

them    with   some   clay.      Thought   was 
soon  busy  ;  nothing  was  said  for  some 
time.     Then  Becky  broke  the  silence  : 
"Tom,  I  am  so  hungry  !  " 
Tom  took  something  out  of  his  pocket. 
"  Do  you  remember  this?  "  said  he. 
Becky  almost  smiled. 
"It's  our  wedding  cake,  Tom." 
«  Yes  —  I  wish  it  was  as  big  as  a  barrel, 
for  it's  all  we've  got." 

"  I  saved  it  from  the  pic-nic  for  us 
to  dream  on,  Tom,  the  way  grown-up 
people  do  with  wedding  cake  —  but  it'll 
be  our—" 

She   dropped   the    sentence   where   it 
was.     Tom  divided  the  cake  and  Becky 
good  appetite,  while  Tom  nib- 


THE WEDDING  CAKE. 


bled  at  his  moiety.  There  was  abundance  of  cold  water  to  finish  the  feast 
with.  By  and  by  Becky  suggested  that  they  move  on  again.  Tom  was  silent 
a  moment.  Then  he  said  : 


TOTAL  DARKNESS.  243 


"  Becky,  can  you  bear  it  if  I  tell  you  something  ? " 

Becky's  face  paled,  but  she  thought  she  could. 

"Well  then,  Becky,  we  must  stay  here,  where  there's  water  to  drink.  That 
little  piece  is  our  last  candle !  " 

Becky  gave  loose  to  tears  and  wailings.  Tom  did  what  he  could  to  comfort 
her  but  with  little  effect.  At  length  Becky  said : 

"  Tom ! " 

"  Well,  Becky  ?  " 

"  They'll  miss  us  and  hunt  for  us !  " 

"  Yes,  they  will  !     Certainly  they  will !  " 

"  Maybe  they're  hunting  for  us  now,  Tom." 

"  Why  I  reckon  maybe  they  are.     I  hope  they  are." 

"When  would  they  miss  us,  Tom?" 

"  When  they  get  back  to  the  boat,  I  reckon." 

"Tom,  it  might  be  dark,  then — would  they  notice  we  hadn't  come?" 

"  I  don't  know.  But  anyway,  your  mother  would  miss  you  as  soon  as  they 
got  home." 

A  frightened  look  in  Becky's  face  brought  Tom  to  his  senses  and  he  saw  that 
he  had  made  a  blunder.  Becky  was  not  to  have  gone  home  that  night !  The 
children  became  silent  and  thoughtful.  In  a  moment  a  new  burst  of  grief  from 
Becky  showed  Tom  that  the  thing  in  his  mind  had  struck  hers  also — that  the 
Sabbath,  morning  might  behalf  spent  before  Mrs.  Thatcher  discovered  that 
Becky  was  not  at  Mrs.  Harper's. 

The  children  fastened  their  eyes  upon  their  bit  of  candle  and  watched  it  melt 
slowly  and  pitilessly  away;  saw  the  half  inch  of  wick  stand  alone  at  last ;  saw 
the  feeble  flame  rise  and  fall,  climb  the  thin  column  of  smoke,  linger  at  its  top 
a  moment,  and  then — the  horror  of  utter  darkness  reigned ! 

How  long  afterward  it  was  that  Becky  came  to  a  slow  consciousness  that  she 
was  crying  in  Tom's  arms,  neither  could  tell.  All  that  they  knew  was,  that 
after  what  seemed  a  mighty  stretch  of  time,  both  awoke  out  of  a  dead  stupor 
of  sleep  and  resumed  their  miseries  once  more.  Tom  said  it  might  be  Sunday, 
now — maybe  Monday.  He  tried  to  get  Becky  to  talk,  but  her  sorrows  were 


244  TOM  SAWYER. 


too  oppressive,  all  her  hopes  were  gone.  Tom  said  that  they  must  have  been 
missed  long  ago,  and  no  doubt  the  search  was  going  on.  He  would  shout  and 
maybe  some  one  would  come.  He  tried  it ;  but  in  the  darkness  the  distant 
echoes  sounded  so  hideously  that  he  tried  it  no  more. 

The  hours  wasted  away,  and  hunger  came  to  torment  the  captives  again.  A 
portion  of  Tom's  half  of  the  cake  was  left ;  they  divided  and  ate  it.  But  they 
seemed  hungrier  than  before.  The  poor  morsel  of  food  only  whetted  desire. 

By  and  by  Tom  said  : 

"  Sh !     Did  you  hear  that?  " 

Both  held  their  breath  and  listened.  There  was  a  sound  like  the  faintest, 
far-off  shout.  Instantly  Tom  answered  it,  and  leading  Becky  by  the  hand, 
started  groping  down  the  corridor  in  its  direction.  Presently  he  listened  again  ; 
again  the  sound  was  heard,  and  apparently  a  little  nearer. 

"  It's  them  !  "  said  Tom ;  "  they're  coming !  Come  along  Becky — we're  all 
right  now !  " 

The  joy  of  the  prisoners  was  almost  overwhelming.  Their  speed  was  slow, 
however,  because  pitfalls  were  somewhat  common,  and  had  to  be  guarded 
against.  They  shortly  came  to  one  and  had  to  stop.  It  might  be  three  feet 
deep,  it  might  be  a  hundred — there  was  no  passing  it  at  any  rate.  Tom  got 
down  on  his  breast  and  reached  as  far  down  as  he  could.  No  bottom.  They 
must  stay  there  and  wait  until  the  searchers  came.  They  listened  ;  evidently 
the  distant  shoutings  were  growing  more  distant !  a  moment  or  two  more 
and  they  had  gone  altogether.  The  heart-sinking  misery  of  it!  Tom 
whooped  until  he  was  hoarse,  but  it  was  of  no  use.  He  talked  hopefully  to 
Becky;  but  an  age  of  anxious  waiting  passed  and  no  sounds  came  again. 

The  children  groped  their  way  back  to  the  spring.  The  weary  time  dragged 
on;  they  slept  again,  and  awoke  famished  and  woe-stricken.  Tom  believed  it 
must  be  Tuesday  by  this  time. 

Now  an  idea  struck  him.  There  were  some  side  passages  near  at  hand.  It 
would  be  better  to  explore  some  of  these  than  bear  the  weight  of  the  heavy 
time  in  idleness.  He  took  a  kite-line  from  his  pocket,  tied  it  to  a  projection, 
and  he  and  Becky  started,  Tom  in  the  lead,  unwinding  the  line  as  he  groped 


FOUND  BUT  NOT  SA  VED. 


245 


along.  At  the  end  of  twenty  steps  the  corridor  ended  in  a  "jumping-off  place." 
Tom  got  down  on  his  knees  and  felt  below,  and  then  as  far  around  the  corner 
as  he  could  reach  with  his  hands  conveniently ;  he  made  an  effort  to  stretch 
yet  a  little  further  to  the  right,  and  at  that  moment,  not  twenty  yards  away,  a 
human  hand,  holding  a  candle,  appeared  from  behind  a  rock  !  Tom  lifted  up 
a  glorious  shout,  and  instantly  that  hand  was  followed  by  the  body  it  belonged 


A  NEW  TERROR. 

to — Injun  Joe's!  Tom  was  paralyzed;  he  could  not  move.  He  was  vastly 
gratified  the  next  moment,  to  see  the  "  Spaniard"  take  to  his  heels  and  get 
himself  out  of  sight.  Tom  wondered  that  Joe  had  not  recognized  his  voice 
and  come  over  and  killed  him  for  testifying  in  court.  But  the  echoes  must 
have  disguised  the  voice.  Without  doubt,  that  was  it,  he  reasoned.  Tom's 


246  TOM  SA  WYER. 


fright  weakened  every  muscle  in  his  body.  He  said  to  himself  that  if  he  had 
strength  enough  to  get  back  to  the  spring  he  would  stay  there,  and  nothing 
should  tempt  him  to  run  the  risk  of  meeting  Injun  Joe  again.  He  was  careful 
to  keep  from  Becky  what  it  was  he  had  seen.  He  told  her  he  had  only  shouted 
"  for  luck." 

But  hunger  and  wretchedness  rise  superior  to  fears  in  the  long  run.  Another 
tedious  wait  at  the  spring  and  another  long  sleep  brought  changes.  The 
children  awoke  tortured  with  a  raging  hunger.  Tom  believed  that  it  must  be 
Wednesday  or  Thursday  or  even  Friday  or  Saturday,  now,  and  that  the  search 
had  been  given  over.  He  proposed  to  explore  another  passage.  He  felt 
willing  to  risk  Injun  Joe  and  all  other  terrors.  But  Becky  was  very  weak. 
She  had  sunk  into  a  dreary  apathy  and  would  not  be  roused.  She  said  she 
would  wait,  now,  where  she  was,  and  die — it  would  not  be  long.  She  told  Tom 
to  go  with  the  kite-line  and  explore  if  he  chose;  but  she  implored  him  to  come 
back  every  little  while  and  speak  to  her ;  and  she  made  him  promise  that  when 
the  aw1~ul  time  came,  he  would  stay  by  her  and  hold  her  hand  until  all  was 
over. 

Tom  kissed  her,  with  a  choking  sensation  in  his  throat,  and  made  a  show  of 
being  confident  of  finding  the  searchers  or  an  escape  from  the  cave;  then  he 
took  the  kite-line  in  his  hand  and  went  groping  down  one  of  the  passages  on 
his  hands  and  knees,  distressed  with  hunger  and  sick  with  bodings  of  coming, 
doom. 


afternoon  came,  and  waned 
to  the  twilight.  The  village  of  St. 
Petersburg  still  mourned.  The  lost 
children  had  not  been  found.  Public 
prayers  had  been  offered  up  for  them, 
and  many  and  many  a  private  prayer 
that  had  the  petitioner's  whole  heart 
in  it;  but  still  no  good  news  came  from 
the  cave.  The  majority  of  the  search- 
ers had  given  up  the  quest  and  gone 
back  to  their  daily  avocations,  saying 
that  it  was  plain  the  children  could 
never  be  found.  Mrs.  Thatcher  was 
very  ill,  and  a  great  part  of  the  time 
delirious.  People  said  it  was  heart- 
breaking to  hear  her  call  her  child, 
and  raise  her  head  and  listen  a  whole 
minute  at  a  time,  then  lay  it  wearily  down  again  with  a  moan.  Aunt  Polly  had 
drooped  into  a  settled  melancholy,  and  her  gray  hair  had  grown  almost  white. 
The  village  went  to  its  rest  on  Tuesday  night,  sad  and  forlorn. 

247 


248  TOM  SAWYER. 


Away  in  the  middle  of  the  night  a  wild  peal  burst  from  the  village  bells,  and  in 
a  moment  the  streets  were  swarming  with  frantic  half-clad  people,  who  shouted, 
"  Turn  out !  turn  out !  they're  found  !  they're  found  !  "  Tin  pans  and  horns  were 
added  to  the  din,  the  population  massed  itself  and  moved  toward  the  river,  met 
the  children  coming  in  an  open  carriage  drawn  by  shouting  citizens,  thronged 


THE    "TURN    OUT"   TO    RECEIVE   TOM   AND   BECKY. 

around  it,  joined  its  homeward  march,  and  swept  magnificently  up  the  main  street 
roaring  huzzah  after  huzzah  ! 

The  village  was  illuminated  ;  nobody  went  to  bed  again ;  it  was  the  greatest 
night  the  little  town  had  ever  seen.  During  the  first  half  hour  a  procession  of 
villagers  filed  through  Judge  Thatcher's  house,  siezed  the  saved  ones  and  kissed 
them,  squeezed  Mrs.  Thatcher's  hand,  tried  to  speak  but  couldn't — and  drifted 
out  raining  tears  all  over  the  place. 

Aunt  Polly's  happiness  was  complete,  and  Mrs.  Thatcher's  nearly  so.     It  would 


TOM  TELLS  THE  STORY  OF  THEIR  ESCAPE. 


249 


be  complete,  however,  as  soon  as  the  messenger  dispatched  with  the  great  news  to 
the  cave  should  get  the  word  to  her  husband.  Tom  lay  upon  a  sofa  with  an  eager 
auditory  about  him  and  told  the  history  of  the  wonderful  adventure,  putting  in 
many  striking  additions  to  adorn  it  withal ;  and  closed  with  a  description  of  how 
he  left  Becky  and  went  on  an  exploring  expedition ;  how  he  followed  two  avenues 
as  far  as  his  kite-line  would  reach ;  how  he  followed  a  third  to  the  fullest  stretch 
of  the  kite-line,  and  was  about  to  turn  back  when  he  glimpsed  a  far-off  speck  that 
looked  like  daylight ;  dropped  the  line  and  groped  toward  it,  pushed  his  head  and 


THE    ESCAPE    FROM    THE    CAVE. 

•.shoulders  through  a  small  hole  and  saw  the  broad  Mississippi  rolling  by,!  And  if 
it  had  only  happened  to  be  night  he  would  not  have  seen  that  speck  of  daylight 
and  would  not  have  explored  that  passage  any  more!  He  told  how  he  went  back 
for  Becky  and  broke  the  good  news  and  she  told  him  not  to  fret  her  with  such  stuff, 
for  she  was  tired,  and  knew  she  was  going  to  die,  and  wanted  to.  He  described 


250  TOM  SAWYER. 


how  he  labored  with  her  and  convinced  her;  and  how  she  almost  died  for  joy 
when  she  had  groped  to  where  she  actually  saw  the  blue  speck  of  daylight ;  how- 
he  pushed  his  way  out  at  the  hole  and  then  helped  her  out;  how  they  sat  there 
and  cried  for  gladness  ;  how  some  men  came  along  in  a  skiff  and  Tom  hailed  them 
and  told  them  their  situation  and  their  famished  condition;  how  the  men  didn't 
believe  the'wild  tale  at  first,  "because,"  said  they,  "you  are  five  miles  down  the 
river  below  the  valley  the  cave  is  in  " — then  took  them  aboard,  rowed  to  a  house,, 
gave  them  supper,  made  them  rest  till  two  or  three  hours  after  dark  and  then 
brought  them  home. 

Before  day-dawn,  Judge  Thatcher  and  the  handful  of  searchers  with  him  were 
tracked  out,  in  the  cave,  by  the  twine  clews  they  had  strung  behind  them,  and 
informed  of  the  great  news. 

Three  days  and  nights  of  toil  and  hunger  in  the  cave  were  not  to  be  shaken  off 
at  once,  as  Tom  and  Becky  soon  discovered.  They  were  bedridden  all  of  Wed- 
nesday and  Thursday,  and  seemed  to  grow  more  and  more  tired  and  worn,  all  the 
time.  Tom  got  about,  a  little,  on  Thursday,  was  down  town  Friday,  and  nearly  as 
whole  as  ever  Saturday;  but  Becky  did  not  leave  her  room  until  Sunday,  and  then 
she  looked  as  if  she  had  passed  through  a  wasting  illness. 

Tom  learned  ofHuck's  sickness  and  went  to  see  him  on  Friday,  but  could  not 
be  admitted  to  the  bedroom;  neither  could  he  on  Saturday  or  Sunday.  He  was 
admitted  daily  after  that,  but  was  warned  to  keep  still  about  his  adventure  and 
introduce  no  exciting  topic.  The  widow  Douglas  staid  by  to  see  that  he  obeyed. 
At  home  Tom  1-earned  of  the  Cardiff  Hill  event;  also  that  the  "ragged  man's" 
body  had  eventually  been  found  in  the  river  near  the  ferry  landing;  he  had  been 
drowned  while  trying  to  escape,  perhaps. 

About  a  fortnight  after  Tom's  rescue  from  the  cave,  he- started  off  to  visit  Huck,. 
who  had  grown  plenty  strong  enough,  now,  to  hear  exciting  talk,  and  Tom  had 
some  that  would  interest  him,  he  thought.  Judge  Thatcher's  house  was  on  Tom's, 
way,  and  he  stopped  to  see  Becky.  The  Judge  and  some  friends  set  Tom  to 
talking,  and  some  one  asked  him  ironically  if  he  wouldn't  like  to  go  to  the  cave 
again.  Tom  said  he  thought  he  wouldn't  mind  it.  The  Judge  said : 

"Well,  there  are  others  just  like  you,  Tom,  I've  not  the  least  doubt.     But 


TOM'S  ENEMY  IN  SAFE  QUARTERS. 


we    have    taken   care    of  that.     Nobody  will  get  lost  in  that  cave    any  more."' 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  had  its  big  door  sheathed  with  boiler  iron  two  weeks  ago,  and  triple- 
locked — and  I've  got  the  keys." 

Tom  turned  as  white  as  a  sheet. 

"What's  the  matter,  boy  !     Here,  run,  somebody!     Fetch  a  glass  of  water  ! '" 

The  water  was  brought  and  thrown  into  Tom's  face. 

"  Ah,  now  you're  all  right.     What  was  the  matter  with  you,  Tom  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Judge,  Injun  Joe's  in  the  cave !  " 


a  few  minutes  the  news  had 
spread,  and  a  dozen  skiff-loads  of  men 
were  on  their  way  to  McDougal's  cave, 
and  the  ferry-boat,  well  filled  with 
passengers,  soon  followed.  Tom  Saw- 
yer was  in  the  skiff  that  bore  Judge 
Thatcher. 

When  the  cave  door  was  unlocked,  a 
sorrowful  sight  presented  itself  in  the 
dim  twilight  of  the  place.  Injun  Joe 
lay  stretched  upon  the  ground,  dead, 
with  his  face  close  to  the  crack  of  the 
door,  as  if  his  longing  eyes  had  been 
fixed,  to  the  latest  moment,  upon  the 
light  and  the  cheer  of  the  free  world 
outside.  Tom  was  touched,  for  he 
knew  by  his  own  experience  how  this 
wretch  had  suffered.  His  pity  was  moved,  but  nevertheless  he  felt  an  abounding 
sense  of  relief  and  security,  now,  which  revealed  to  him  in  a  degree  which  he  had 

252 


THE  FA  TE  OF  INJUN  JOE. 


253 


not  fully  appreciated  before  how  vast  a  weight  of  dread  had  been  lying  upon  him 
since  the  day  he  lifted  his  voice  against  this  bloody-minded  outcast. 

•Injun  Joe's  bowie  knife  lay  close  by,  its  blade  broken  in  two.  The  great  found- 
ation-beam of  the  door  had  been  chipped  and  hacked  through,  with  tedious  labor; 
useless  labor,  too,  it  was,  for  the  native  rock  formed  a  sill  outside  it,  and  upon  that 
stubborn  material  the  knife  had  wrought  no  effect ;  the  only  damage  done  was  to- 
the  knife  itself.  But  if  there  had  been  no  stony  obstruction  there  the  labor  would 


CAUGHT    AT    LAST. 


have  been  useless  still,  for  if  the  beam  had  been  wholly  cut  away  Injun  Joe  could 
not  have  squeezed  his  body  under  the  door,  and  he  knew  it.  So  he  had  only 
hacked  that  place  in  order  to  be  doing  something — in  order  to  pass  the  weary 
time — in  order  to  employ  his  tortured  faculties.  Ordinarily  one  could  find  half  a 
dozen  bits  of  candle  stuck  around  in  the  crevices  of  this  vestibule,  left  there  by 
tourists  ;  but  there  were  none  now.  The  prisoner  had  searched  them  out  and  eaten 
them.  He  had  also  contrived  to  catch  a  few  bats,  and  these,  also,  he  had  eaten, 


254 


TOM  SAWYER. 


leaving  only  their  claws.  The  poor  unfortunate  had  starved  to  death.  In  one 
place  near  at  hand,  a  stalagmite  had  been  slowly  growing  up  from  the  ground  for 
ages,  builded  by  the  water-drip  from  a  stalactite  overhead.  The  captive  had  broken 
off  the  stalagmite,  and  upon  the  stump  had  placed  a 
stone,  wherein  he  had  scooped  a  shallow  hollow  to  catch 
the  precious  drop  that  fell  once  in  every  three  minutes 
with  the  dreary  regularity  of  a  clock-tick — a  dessert 
spoonful  once  in  four  and  twenty  hours.  That  drop 
was  falling  when  the  Pyramids  were  new;  when  Troy 
fell ;  when  the  foundations  of  Rome  were  laid ;  when 
Christ  was  crucified;  when  the  Conqueror  created  the 
British  empire ;  when  Columbus  sailed ;  when  the 
massacre  at  Lexington  was  "  news."  It  is  falling  now; 
it  will  still  be  falling  when  all  these  things  shall  have 
sunk  down  the  afternoon  of  history,  and  the  twilight 
of  tradition,  and  been  swallowed  up  in  the  thick  night 
of  oblivion.  Has  everything  a  purpose  and  a  mission  ? 
Did  this  drop  fall  patiently  during  five  thousand  years 
to  be  ready  for  this  flitting  human  insect's  need  ?  and 
has  it  another  important  object  to  accomplish  ten  thou- 
sand years  to  come  ?  No  matter.  It  is  many  and  many 
a  year  since  the  hapless  half-breed  scooped  out  the 
stone  to  catch  the  priceless  drops,  but  to  this  day  the 
tourist  stares  longest  at  that  pathetic  stone  and  that  slow 
dropping  water  when  he  comes  to  see  the  wonders  of 
McDougal's  cave.  Injun  Joe's  cup  stands  first  in  the 
list  of  the  cavern's  marvels;  even  "Aladdin's  Palace" 
cannot  rival  it. 

Injun  Joe  was  buried  near  the  mouth  of  the  cave ;  and  people  nocked  there  in 
boats  and  wagons  from  the  towns  and  from  all  the  farms  and  hamlets  for  seven 
miles  around ;  they  brought  their  children,  and  all  sorts  of  provisions,  and  con- 
fessed that  they  had  had  almost  as  satisfactory  a  fime  at  the  funeral  as  they  could 
have  had  at  the  hanging. 


DROP   AFTER    DROP. 


HUCK  AND   TOM  COMPARE  NOTES. 


255 


This  funeral  stopped  the  further  growth  of  one  thing — the  petition  to  the  Gover- 
nor for  Injun  Joe's  pardon.  The  petition  had  been  largely  signed;  many  tearful 
.and  eloquent  meetings  had  been  held,  and  a  committee  of  sappy  women  been 


HAVING   A    GOOD   TIME. 


appointed  to  go  in  deep  mourning  and  wail  around  the  governor,  and  implore  him 
to  be  a  merciful  ass  and  trample  his  duty  under  foot.  Injun  Joe  was  believed  to 
have  killed  five  citizens  of  the  village,  but  what  of  that  ?  If  he  had  been  Satan 
himself  there  would  have  been  plenty  of  weaklings  ready  to  scribble  their  names 
to  a  pardon-petition,  and  drip  a  tear  on  it  from  their  permanently  impaired  and 
leaky  water-works. 

The  morning  after  the  funeral  Tom  took  Huck  to  a  private  place  to  have  an 
important  talk.  Huck  had  learned  all  about  Tom's  adventure  from  the  Welchman 
and  the  widow  Douglas,  by  this  time,  but  Tom  said  he  reckoned  there  was  one 
thing  they  had  not  told  him;  that  thing  was  what  he  wanted  to  talk  about  now. 
Huck's  face  saddened.  He  said : 

"  I  know  what  it  is.  You  got  into  No.  2  and  never  found  anything  but  whisky. 
Nobody  told  me  it  was  you  ;  but  I  just  knowed  it  must  'a'  ben  you,  soon  as  I  heard 
'bout  that  whisky  business  ;  and  I  knowed  you  hadn't  got  the  money  becuz  you'd 
'a*  got  at  me  some  way  or  other  and  told  me  even  if  you  was  mum  to  everybody 
else.  Tom,  something's  always  told  me  we'd  never  get  holt  of  that  swag." 

"  Why  Huck,  /  never  told  on  that  tavern-keeper.     You  know  his  tavern  was  all 


256  TOM  SA  WYER. 


right  the  Saturday  I  went  to  the  pic-nic.  Don't  you  remember  you  was  to  watch 
there  that  night?" 

"  Oh,  yes !  Why  it  seems  'bout  a  year  ago.  It  was  that  very  night  that  I 
follered  Injun  Joe  to  the  widder's." 

"  You  followed  him  ?  " 

"  Yes — but  you  keep  mum.  I  reckon  Injun  Joe's  left  friends  behind  him,  and 
I  don't  want  'em  souring  on  me  and  doing  me  mean  tricks.  If  it  hadn't  ben  for 
me  he'd  be  down  in  Texas  now,  all  right." 

Then  Huck  told  his  entire  adventure  in  confidence  to  Tom,  who  had  only  heard 
of  the  Welchmen's  part  of  it  before. 

"  Well,"  said  Huck,  presently,  coming  back  to  the  main  question,  "  whoever 
nipped  the  whisky  in  No.  2,  nipped  the  money  too,  I  reckon— anyways  it's  a  goner 
for  us,  Tom." 

"  Huck,  that  money  wasn't  ever  in  No.  2  !  " 

"  What !  "  Huck  searched  his  comrade's  face  keenly.  "  Tom,  have  you  got  on 
the  track  of  that  money  again  ?  " 

"  Huck,  it's  in  the  cave !  " 

Huck's  eyes  blazed. 

"  Say  it  again,  Tom  !  " 

"  The  money's  in  the  cave  !  " 

"  Tom, — honest  injun,  now — is  it  fun,  or  earnest  ?  " 

"  Earnest,  Huck — just  as  earnest  as  ever  I  was  in  my  life.  Will  you  go  in  there 
with  me  and  help  get  it  out  ?  " 

"  I  bet  I  will !     I  will  if  it's  where  we  can  blaze  our  way  to  it  and  not  get  lost." 

"  Huck,  we  can  do  that  without  the  least  little  bit  of  trouble  in  the  world." 

"  Good  as  wheat !     What  makes  you  think  the  money's  —  " 

"  Huck,  you  just  wait  till  we  get  in  there.  If  we  don't  find  it  I'll  agree  to  give 
you  my  drum  and  everything  I've  got  in  the  world.  I  will,  byjings." 

"  All  right — it's  a  whiz.     When  do  you  say  ?  " 

"  Right  now,  if  you  say  it.     Are  you  strong  enough  ?  " 

"  Is  it  far  in  the  cave  ?  I  ben  on  my  pins  a  little,  three  or  four  days,  now,  but  I 
can't  walk  more'n  a  mile,  Tom — least  I  don't  think  I  could." 


AN  EXPEDITION  TO  THE  CA  VE. 


257 


BUSINESS    TRIP. 


"It's  about  five  mile  into  there  the  way 
anybody  but  me  would  go,  Huck,  but 
there's  a  mighty  short  cut  that  they  don't 
anybody  but  me  know  about.  Huck,  I'll 
take  you  right  to  it  in  a  skiff.  I'll  float 
the  skiff  down  there,  and  I'll  pull  it  back 
again  all  by  myself.  You  needn't  ever 
turn  your  hand  over." 

"  Less  start  right  off,  Tom." 

"  All  right.  We  want  some  bread  and 
meat,  and  our  pipes,  and  a  little  bag  or 
two,  and  two  or  three  kite-strings,  and 
some  of  these  new  fangled  things  they 
call  lucifer  matches.  I  tell  you  many's 
the  time  I  wished  I  had  some  when  I 
was  in  there  before." 

A  trifle  after  noon  the  boys  borrowed  a 
small  skiff  from  a  citizen  who  was  absent, 
and  got  under  way  at  once.  When  they 
were  several  miles  below  "  Cave  Hollow," 
Tom  said : 

"  Now  you  see  this  bluff  here  looks  all 
alike  all  the  way  down  from  the  cave 
hollow — no  houses,  no  wood-yards,  bushes 
all  alike.  But  do  you  see  that  white  place 
up  yonder  where  there's  been  a  land- 
slide? Well  that's  one  of  my  marks. 
We'll  get  ashore,  now." 

They  landed. 

"  Now  Huck,  where  we're  a-standing  you 
could  touch  that  hole  I  got  out  of  with  a 
fishing-pole.  See  if  you  can  find  it." 


17 


258  TOM  SAWYER. 


Huck  searched  all  the  place  about,  and  found  nothing.  Tom  proudly  marched 
into  a  thick  clump  of  sumach  bushes  and  said — 

"  Here  you  are !  Look  at  it,  Huck ;  it's  the  snuggest  hole  in  this  country.  You 
just  keep  mum  about  it.  All  along  I've  been  wanting  to  be  a  robber,  but  I  knew 
I'd  got  to  have  a  thing  like  this,  and  where  to  run  across  it  was  the  bother.  We've 
got  it  now,  and  we'll  keep  it  quiet,  only  we'll  let  Joe  Harper  and  Ben  Rogers  in — 
because  of  course  there's  got  to  be  a  Gang,  or  else  there  wouldn't  be  any  style 
about  it.  Tom  Sawyer's  Gang — it  sounds  splendid,  don't  it,  Huck  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  just  does,  Tom.     And  who'll  we  rob  ?  " 

"  Oh,  most  anybody.     Waylay  people — that's  mostly  the  way." 

"And  kill  them?" 

"No — not  always.     Hive  them  in  the  cave  till  they  raise  a  ransom." 

"What's  a  ransom  ?  " 

"  Money.  You  make  them  raise  all  they  can,  offn  their  friends ;  and  after  you've 
kept  them  a  year,  if  it  ain't  raised  then  you  kill  them.  That's  the  general  way. 
Only  you  don't  kill  the  women.  You  shut  up  the  women,  but  you  don't  kill  them. 
They're  always  beautiful  and  rich,  and  awfully  scared.  You  take  their  watches 
and  things,  but  you  always  take  your  hat  off  and  talk  polite.  They  ain't  anybody 
as  polite  as  robbers — you'll  see  that  in  any  book.  Well  the  women  get  to  loving 
you,  and  after  they've  been  in  the  cave  a  week  or  two  weeks  they  stop  crying  and 
after  that  you  couldn't  get  them  to  leave.  If  you  drove  them  out  they'd  turn  right 
around  and  come  back.  It's  so -in  all  the  books." 

"  Why  it's  real  bully,  .Tom.     I  b'lieve  it's  better'n  to  be  a  pirate." 

"Yes,  it's  better  in  some  ways,  because  it's  close  to  home  and  circuses  and  all  that." 

By  this  time  everything  was  ready  and  the  boys  entered  the  hole,  Tom  in  the 
lead.  They  toiled  their  way  to  the  farther  end  of  the  tunnel,  then  made  their 
spliced  kite-strings  fast  and  moved  on.  A  few  steps  brought  them  to  the  spring 
and  Tom  felt  a  shudder  quiver  all  through  him.  He  showed  Huck  the  fragment  of 
candle-wick  perched  on  a  lump  of  clay  against  the  wall,  and  described  how  he  and 
Becky  had  watched  the  flame  struggle  and  expire. 

The  boys  began  to  quiet  down  to  whispers,  now,  for  the  stillness  and  gloom  of 
the  place  oppressed  their  spirits.  They  went  on,  and  presently  entered  and  followed 


PROTECTION  AGAINST  GHOSTS.  '259 

Tom's  other  corridor  until  they  reached  the  "  jumping-off  place."  The  candles 
revealed  the  fact  that  it  was  not  really  a  precipice,  but  only  a  steep  clay  hill  twenty 
or  thirty  feet  high.  Tom  whispered — 

"  Now  I'll  show  you  something,  Huck." 

He  held  his  candle  aloft  and  said — 

"Look  as  far  around  the  corner  as  you  can.  Do  you  see  that?  There — on  the 
big  rock  over  yonder — done  with  candle  smoke." 

"  Tom,  its  a  cross  !  " 

"  Now  where 's  your  Number  Two  ?  '  Under  the  cross  j  hey  ?  Right  yonder's 
where  I  saw  Injun  Joe  poke  up  his  candle,  Huck!  " 

Huck  stared  at  the  mystic  sign  a  while,  and  then  said  with  a  shaky  voice — 

"  Tom,  less  git  out  of  here  !  " 

"  What !  and  leave  the  treasure  ?  " 

"  Yes — leave  it.     Injun  Joe's  ghost  is  round  about  there,  certain." 

"  No  it  ain't,  Huck,  no  it  ain't.  It  would  ha'nt  the  place  where  he  died — away 
out  at  the  mouth  of  the  cave — five  mile  from  here." 

"  No,  Tom,  it  wouldn't.  It  would  hang  round  the  money.  I  know  the  ways  of 
ghosts,  and  so  do  you." 

Tom  began  to  fear  that  Huck  was  right.  Misgivings  gathered  in  his  mind.  But 
presently  an  idea  occurred  to  him — 

"  Looky  here,  Huck,  what  fools  we're  making  of  ourselves!  Injun  Joe's  ghost 
ain't  a  going  to  come  around  where  there's  a  cross !  " 

The  point  was  well  taken.     It  had  its  effect. 

"Tom  I  didn't  think  of  that.  But  that's  so.  It's  luck  for  us,  that  cross  is.  I 
reckon  we'll  climb  down  there  and  have  a  hunt  for  that  box." 

Tom  went  first,  cutting  rude  steps  in  the  clay  hill  as  he  descended.  Huck  fol- 
lowed. Four  avenues  opened  out  of  the  small  cavern  which  the  great  rock  stood  in. 
The  boys  examined  three  of  them  with  no  result.  They  found  a  small  recess  in  the 
one  nearest  the  base  of  the  rock,  with  a  pallet  of  blankets  spread  down  in  it ;  also 
an  old  suspender,  some  bacon  rhind,  and  the  well  gnawed  bones  of  two  or  three 
fowls.  But  there  was  no  money  box.  The  lads  searched  and  re-searched  this 
place,  but  in  vain.  Tom  said : 


260  TOM  SA  WYER. 


"  He  said  under  the  cross.  Well,  this  comes  nearest  to  being  under  the  cross. 
It  can't  be  under  the  rock  itself,  because  that  sets  solid  on  the  ground." 

They  searched  everywhere  once  more,  and  then  sat  down  discouraged.  Huck 
could  suggest  nothing.  By  and  by  Tom  said : 

"Looky  here,  Huck,  there's  foot-prints  and  some  candle  grease  on  the  clay 
about  one  side  of  this  rock,  but  not  on  the  other  sides.  Now  what's  that  for  ?  I 
bet  you  the  money  is  under  the  rock.  I'm  going  to  dig  in  the  clay." 

"  That  ain't  no  bad  notion,  Tom ! "  said  Huck  with  animation. 

Tom's  "real  Barlow"  was  out  at  once,  and  he  had  not  dug  four  inches  before 
he  struck  wood. 

"Hey,  Huck! — you  hear  that?" 

Huck  began  to  dig  and  scratch  now.  Some  boards  were  soon  uncovered  and 
removed.  They  had  concealed  a  natural  chasm  which  led  under  the  rock.  Tom 
got  into  this  and  held  his  candle  as  far  under  the  rock  as  he  could,  but  said  he 
could  not  see  to  the  end  of  the  rift.  He  proposed  to  explore.  He  stooped  and 
passed  under;  the  narrow  way  descended  gradually.  He  followed  its  winding 
course,  first  to  the  right,  then  to  the  left,  Huck  at  his  heels.  Tom  turned  a  short 
curve,  by  and  by,  and  exclaimed — 

"  My  goodness,  Huck,  looky  here  !  " 

It  was  the  treasure  box,  sure  enough,  occupying  a  snug  little  cavern,  along 
with  an  empty  powder  keg,  a  couple  of  guns  in  leather  cases,  two  or  three  pairs 
of  old  moccasins,  a  leather  belt,  and  some  other  rubbish  well  soaked  with  the 
water-drip. 

"Got  it  at  last!"  said  Huck,  plowing  among  the  tarnished  coins  with  his 
hand.  "  My,  but  we're  rich,  Tom !  " 

"  Huck,  I  always  reckoned  we'd  get  it.  It's  just  too  good  to  believe,  but  we 
have  got  it,  sure !  Say — let's  not  fool  around  here.  Let's  snake  it  out.  Lemme 
see  if  I  can  lift  the  box." 

It  weighed  about  fifty  pounds.  Tom  could  lift  it,  after  an  awkward  fashion, 
but  could  not  carry  it  conveniently. 

"I  thought  so,"  he  said;  they  carried  it  like  it  was  heavy,  that  day  at  the 
ha'nted  house.  I  noticed  that.  I  reckon  I  was  right  to  think  of  fetching  the 
little  bags  along." 


'AN  A  WFUL  SNUG  PLACE." 


261 


The  money  was  soon  in  the  bags  and  the  boys  took  it  up  to  the  cross-rock. 

"  Now  less  fetch  the  guns  and  things,"  said  Huck. 

"No,  Huck — leave  them  there.  They're  just  the  tricks  to  have  when  we  go 
to  robbing.  We'll  keep  them  there  all  the  time,  and  we'll  hold  our  orgies  there, 
too.  It's  an  awful  snug  place  for  orgies." 

"What's  orgies?  " 

"/  dono.     But  robbers  always  have  orgies,  and  of  course  we've  got  to  have 


"  GOT   IT   AT   LAST ! 

them,  too.  Come  along,  Huck,  we've  been  in  here  a  long  time.  It's  getting 
late,  I  reckon.  I'm  hungry,  too.  We'll  eat  and  smoke  when  we  get  to  the  skiff." 
They  presently  emerged  into  the  clump  of  sumach  bushes,  looked  warily  out, 
found  the  coast  clear,  and  were  soon  lunching  and  smoking  in  the  skiff.  As  the 
sun  dipped  toward  the  horizon  they  pushed  out  and  got  under  way.  Tom 
skimmed  up  the  shore  through  the  long  twilight,  chatting  cheerily  with  Huck, 
and  landed  shortly  after  dark. 


262  TOM  SAWYER. 


"  Now  Huck,"  said  Tom,  "  we'll  hide  the  money  in  the  loft  of  the  widow's 
wood-shed,  and  I'll  come  up  in  the  morning  and  we'll  count  it  and  divide,  and 
then  we'll  hunt  up  a  place  out  in  the  woods  for  it  where  it  will  be  safe.  Just 
you  lay  quiet  here  and  watch  the  stuff  till  I  run  and  hook  Benny  Taylor's  little 
wagon ;  I  won't  be  gone  a  minute." 

He  disappeared,  and  presently  returned  with  the  wagon,  put  the  two  small 
sacks  into  it,  threw  some  old  rags  on  top  of  them,  and  started  off,  dragging 
his  cargo  behind  him.  When  the  boys  reached  the  Welchman's  house,  they 
stopped  to  rest.  Just  as  they  were  about  to  move  on,  the  Welchman  stepped 
out  and  said : 

"  Hallo,  who's  that  ?  " 

"  Huck  and  Tom  Sawyer."  . 

"Good!  Come  along  with  me,  boys,  you  are  keeping  everybody  waiting. 
Here— hurry  up,  trot  ahead— I'll  haul  the  wagon  for  you.  Why,  it's  not  as 
light  as  it  might  be.  Got  bricks  in  it? — or  old  metal? " 

"  Old  metal,"  said  Tom. 

"I  judged  so;  the  boys  in  this  town  will  take  more  trouble  and-fool  away 
more  time,  hunting  up  six  bit's  worth  of  old  iron  to  sell  to  the  foundry*  than 
they  would  to  make  twice  the  money  at  regular  work.  But  that's  human  nature 
— hurry  along,  hurry  along !  " 

The  boys  wanted*  to  know  what  the  hurry  was  about. 

"Never  mind;  you'll  see,  when  we  get  to  the  Widow  Douglas's." 

Huck  said  with  some  apprehension — for  he  was  long  used  to  being  falsely 
accused — 

"  Mr.  Jones,  we  haven't  been  doing  nothing." 

The  Welchman  laughed. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,  Huck,  my  boy.  I  don't  know  about  that.  Ain't  you 
and  the  widow  good  friends  ?  " 

"Yes.     Well,  she's  ben  good  friends  to  me,  any  ways." 

"  All  right,  then.     What  do  you  want  to  be  afraid  for  ?  " 

This  question  was  not  entirely  answered  in  Huck'  s  slow  mind  before  he 
found  himself  pushed,  along  with  Tom,  into  Mrs.  Douglas's  drawing-room. 
Mr.  Jones  left  the  wagon  near  the  door  and  followed. 


A  RECEPTION  AT  7"HE   WIDOW  DOUGLAS'S. 


263 


The  place  was  grandly  lighted,  and  everybody  that  was  of  any  consequence 
in  the  village  was  there.  The  Thatchers  were  there,  the  Harpers,  the  Rogerses, 
Aunt  Polly,  Sid,  Mary,  the  minister,  the  editor,  and  a  great  many  more,  and 
all  dressed  in  their  best.  The  widow  received  the  boys  as  heartily  as  any  one 
could  well  receive  two  such  looking  beings.  They  were  covered  with  clay 
and  candle  grease.  Aunt  Polly  blushed  crimson  with  humiliation,  and  frowned 
and  shook  her  head  at  Tom.  No'body  suffered  half  as  much  as  the  two  boys 
did,  however.  Mr.  Jones  said : 

"  Tom  wasn't  at  home,  yet,  so  I  gave  him  up ;  but  I  stumbled  on  him  and 
Huck  right  at  my  door,  and  so  I  just  brought  them  along  in  a  hurry." 

"  And  you  did  just  right,"  said  the  widow  : — "  Come  with  me,  boys." 

She  took  them  to  a  bed  chamber  and  said  : 

"  Now  wash  and  dress  yourselves.  Here  are  two  new  suits  of  clothes — 
shirts,  socks,  everything  complete.  They're  Huck's — no,  no  thanks,  Huck — 
Mr.  Jones  bought  one  and  I  the  other.  But  they'll  fit  both  of  you.  Get  into 
them:  We'll  wait — come  down  when  you  are  slicked  up  enough." 

Then  she  left. 


said :  "  Tom,  we  can  slope,  if  we 
can  find  a  rope.  The  window  ain't 
high  from  the  ground." 

"  Shucks,  what  do  you  want  to 
slope  for  ?  " 

"  Well  I  ain't  used  to  that  kind  of 
a  crowd.  I  can't  stand  it.  I  ain't 
going  down  there,  Tom." 

"  O,  bother !  It  ain't  anything.  I 
don't  mind  it  a  bit.  I'll  take  care  of 
you." 

Sid  appeared. 

"  Tom,"  said  he,  "  Auntie  has  been 
waiting  for  you  all  the  afternoon. 
Mary  got  your  Sunday  clothes  ready, 
and  everybody's  been  fretting  about  you.  Say — ain't  this  grease  and  clay,  on 
your  clothes  ? " 

"  Now  Mr.  Siddy,  you  jist  'tend  to  your  own  business.    What's  all  this  blow- 
out about,  anyway  ? " 

264 


SPRINGING  A  SECRET.  265 


"  It's  one  of  the  widow's  parties  that  she's  always  having.  This  time  its  for 
the  Welchman  and  his  sons,  on  account  of  that  scrape  they  helped  her  out  of 
the  other  night.  And  say— I  can  tell  you  something,  if  you  want  to  know." 

"  Well,  what  ?  " 

"  Why  old  Mr.  Jones  is  going  to  try  to  spring  something  on  the  people 
here  to-night,  but  I  overheard  him  tell  auntie  to-day  about  it,  as  a  secret,  but 
I  reckon  it's  not  much  of  a  secret  now.  Everybody  knows— the  widow,  too,  for 
all  she  tries  to  let  on  she  don't.  Mr.  Jones  was  bound  Huck  should  be  here— 
couldn't  get  along  with  his  grand  secret  without  Huck,  you  know  !  " 

"  Secret  about  what,  Sid  ?  " 

"  About  Huck  tracking  the  robbers  to  the  widow's.  I  reckon  Mr.  Jones  was 
going  to  make  a  grand  time  over  his  surprise,  but  I  bet  you  it  will  drop  pretty 
flat." 

Sid  chuckled  in  a  very  contented  and  satisfied  way. 

"  Sid,  was  it  you  that  told  ?  " 

"  O,  never  mind  who  it  was.     Somebody  told— that's  enough." 

"  Sid,  there's  only  one  person  in  this  town  mean  enough  to  do  that,  and  that's 
you.  If  you  had  been  in  Huck's  place  you'd  'a'  sneaked  down  the  hill  and  never 
told  anybody  on  the  robbers.  You  can't  do  any  but  mean  things,  and  you  can't 
bear  to  see  anybody  praised  for  doing  good  ones.  There — no  thanks,  as  the 
widow  says  " — and  Tom  cuffed  Sid's  ears  and  helped  him  to  the  door  with 
several  kicks.  "  Now  go  and  tell  auntie  if  you  dare — and  to-morrow  you'll 
catch  it !  " 

Some  minutes  later  the  widow's  guests  were  at  the  supper  table,  and  a  dozen 
children  were  propped  up  at  little  side  tables  in  the  same  room,  after  the  fashion 
of  that  country  and  that  day.  At  the  proper  time  Mr.  Jones  made  his  little 
speech,  in  which  he  thanked  the  widow  for  the  honor  she  was  doing  himself 
and  his  sons,  but  said  that  there  was  another  person  whose  modesty — 

And  so  forth  and  so  on.  He  sprung  his  secret  about  Huck's  share  in  the  ad- 
venture in  the  finest  dramatic  manner  he  was  master  of,  but  the  surprise  it 
occasioned  was  largely  counterfeit  and  not  as  clamorous  and  effusive  as  it 
might  have  been  under  happier  circumstances.  However,  the  widow  made  a 


266 


TOM  SAWYER. 


pretty  fair  show  of  astonishment,  and  heaped  so  many  compliments  and  so- 
much  gratitude  upon  Huck  that  he  almost  forgot  the  nearly  intolerable  dis- 
comfort of  his  new  clothes  in  the  entirely  intolerable  discomfort  of  being  set 
up  as  a  target  for  everybody's  gaze  and  everybody's  laudations. 

The  widow  said  she  meant  to  give  Huck  a  home  under  her  roof  and  have 
him  educated  ;  and  that  when  she  could  spare  the  money  she  would  start  him  in. 
business  in  a  modest  way.  Tom's  chance  was  come.  He  said  : 

"  Huck  don't  need  it.     Huck's  rich  ! " 

Nothing  but  a  heavy  strain  upon  the  good  manners  of  the  company  kept. 


TOM    BACKS    HIS    STATEMENT. 


back  the  due  and  proper  complimentary  laugh  at  this  pleasant  joke.     But  the 
silence  was  a  little  awkward.     Tom  broke  it — 

"  Huck's  got  money.     Maybe  you  don't  believe  it,  but  he's  got  lots  of  it. 
you  needn't  smile — I  reckon  I  can  show  you.     You  just  wait  a  minute." 


Oh,, 


MR.  JONES'S  SURPRISE  A  FAILURE.  267 

Tom  ran  out  of  doors.  The  company  looked  at  each  other  with  a  perpl-exed 
interest — and  inquiringly  at  Huck,  who  was  tongue-tied. 

"Sid,  what  ails  Tom?  "said  Aunt  Polly.  "He — well,  there  ain't  ever  any 
making  of  that  boy  out.  I  never —  " 

Tom  entered,  struggling  with  the  weight  of  his  sacks,  and  Aunt  Polly  did 
not  finish  her  sentence.  Tom  poured  the  mass  of  yellow  coin  upon  the  table 
and  said^- 

"  There — what  did  I  tell  you  ?     Half  of  it's  Huck's  and  half  of  it's  mine !  " 

The  spectacle  took  the  general  breath  away.  All  gazed,  nobody  spoke  for  a 
moment.  Then  there  was  a  unanimous  call  for  an  explanation.  Tom  said  he 
could  furnish  it,  and  he  did.  The  tale  was  long,  but  brim  full  of  interest. 
There  was  scarcely  an  interruption  from  anyone  to  break  the  charm  of  its 
flow.  When  he  had  finished,  Mr.  Jones  said — 

"  I  thought  I  had  fixed  up  a  little  surprise  for  this  occasion,  but  it  don't 
amount  to  anything  now.  This  one  makes  it  sing  mighty  small,  I'm  willing 
to  allow." 

The  money  was  counted.  The  sum  amounted  to  a  little  over  twelve  thou- 
sand dollars.  It  was  more  than  any  one  present  had  ever  seen  at  one  time 
before,  though  several  persons  were  there  who  were  worth  considerably  more 
than  that  in  property. 


HUCK.TRAN5FORMED. 


reader  may  rest  satisfied  that  Tom's 
and  Huck's  windfall  made  a  mighty  stir 
in  the  poor  little  village  of  St.  Peters- 
burg. So  vast  a  sum,  all  in  actual  cash, 
seemed  next  to  incredible.  It  was  talked 
about,  gloated  over,  glorified,  until  the 
reason  of  many  of  the  citizens  tottered 
under  the  strain  of  the  unhealthy  ex- 
citement. Every  "  haunted  "  house  in 
St.  Petersburg  and  the  neighboring  vil- 
lages was  dissected,  plank  by  plank,  and 
its  foundations  dug  up  and  ransacked 
for  hidden  treasure— and  not  by  boys, 
but  men — pretty  grave,  unromantic  men, 
too,  some  of  them.  Wherever  Tom  and 
Huck  appeared  they  were  courted,  ad- 


mired, stared  at.  The  boys  were  not  able 
to  remember  that  their  remarks  had  possessed  weight  before ;  but  now  their  sayings 
were  treasured  and  repeated  ;  everything  they  did  seemed  somehow  to  be  regarded 

268 


A  NE  W  ORDER  OF  THINGS.  269 

as  remarkable ;  they  had  evidently  lost  the  power  of  doing  and  saying  common- 
place things  ;  moreover,  their  past  history  was  raked  up  and  discovered  to  bear 
marks  of  conspicuous  originality.  The  village  paper  published  biographical 
sketches  of  the  boys. 

The  widow  Douglas  put  Huck's  money  out  at  six  per  cent.,  and  Judge  Thatcher 
did  the  same  with  Tom's  at  Aunt  Polly's  request.  Each  lad  had  an  income,  now, 
that  was  simply  prodigious — a  dollar  for  every  week-day  in  the  year  and  half  of 
the  Sundays.  It  was  just  what  the  minister  got — no,  it  was  what  he  was  promised 
— he  generally  couldn't  collect  it.  A  dollar  and  a  quarter  a  week  would  board, 
lodge  and  school  a  boy  in  those  old  simple  days — and  clothe  him  and  wash  him, 
too,  for  that  matter. 

Judge  Thatcher  had  conceived  a  great  opinion  of  Tom.  He  said  that  no 
commonplace  boy  would  ever  have  got  his  daughter  out  of  the  cave.  When 
Becky  told  her  father,  in  strict  confidence,  how  Tom  had  taken  her  whipping  at 
school,  the  Judge  was  visibly  moved ;  and  when  she  pleaded  grace  for  the  mighty 
lie  which  Tom  had  told  in  order  to  shift  that  whipping  from  her  shoulders  to  his 
own,  the  Judge  said  with  a  fine  outburst  that  it  was  a  noble,  a  generous,  a  mag- 
nanimous lie — a  lie  that  was  worthy  to  hold  up  its  head  and  march  down  through 
history  breast  to  breast  with  George  Washington's  lauded  Truth  about  the 
hatchet !  Becky  thought  her  father  had  never  looked  so  tall  and  so  superb  as 
when  he  walked  the  floor  and  stamped  his  foot  and  said  that.  She  went  straight 
off  and  told  Tom  about  it. 

Judge  Thatcher  hoped  to  see  Tom  a  great  lawyer  or  a  great  soldier  some  day. 
He  said  he  meant  to  look  to  it  that  Tom  should  be  admitted  to  the  National 
military  academy  and  afterwards  trained  in  the  best  Jaw  school  in  the  country,  in 
order  that  he  might  be  ready  for  either  career  or  both. 

Huck  Finn's  wealth  and  the  fact  that  he  was  now  under  the  widow  Douglas's 
protection,  introduced  him  into  society — no,  dragged  him  into  it,  hurled  him  into 
it — and  his  sufferings  were  almost  more  than  he  could  bear.  The  widow's 
servants  kept  him  clean  and  neat,  combed  and  brushed,  and  they  bedded  him 
nightly  in  unsympathetic  sheets  that  had  not  one  little  spot  or  stain  which  he 
could  press  to  his  heart  and  know  for  a  friend.  He  had  to  eat  with  knife  and 


27°  TOM  SA  IVYER. 


fork;  he  had  to  use  napkin,  cup  and  plate;  he  had  to  learn  his  book,  he  had  to 
go  to  church;  he  had  to  talk  so  properly, that  speech  was  become  insipid  in  his 
mouth;  whithersoever  he  turned,  the  bars  and  shackles  of  civilization  shut  him 
in  and  bound  him  hand  and  foot. 

He  bravely  bore  his  miseries  three  weeks,  and  then  one  day  turned  up  missing. 
For  forty-eight  hours  the  widow  hunted  for  him  everywhere  in  great  distress. 
The  public  were  profoundly  concerned  ;  they  searched  high  and  low,  they  dragged 
the  river  for  his  body.  Early  the  third  morning  Tom  Sawyer  wisely  went  poking 
among  some  old  empty  hogsheads  down  behind  the  abandoned  slaughter-house, 
and  in  one  of  them  he  found  the  refugee.  Huck  had  slept  there ;  he  had  just 
breakfasted  upon  some  stolen  odds  and  ends  of  food,  and  was  lying  off,  now,  in 
comfort  with  his  pipe.  He  was  unkempt,  uncombed,  and  clad  in  the  same  old 
ruin  of  rags  that  had  made  him  picturesque  in  the  days  when  he  was  free  and 
happy.  Tom  routed  him  out,  told  him  the  trouble  he  had  been  causing,  and 
urged  him  to  go  home.  Huck's  face  lost  its  tranquil  content,  and  took  a  melan- 
choly cast.  He  said : 

"  Don't  talk  about  it,  Tom.  I've  tried  it,  and  it  don't  work ;  it  don't  work,  Tom. 
It  ain't  for  me ;  I  ain't  used  to  it.  The  widder's  good  to  me,  and  friendly ;  but  I 
can't  stand  them  ways.  She  makes  me  git  up  just  at  the  same  time  every  morning; 
she  makes  me  wash,  they  comb  me  all  to  thunder;  she  won't  let  me  sleep  in 
the  wood-shed ;  I  got  to  wear  them  blamed  clothes  that  just  smothers  me,  Tom ; 
they  don't  seem  to  any  air  git  through 'em,  somehow;  and  they're  so  rotten  nice 
that  I  can't  set  down,  nor  lay  down,  nor  roll  around  anywher's;  I  hain't  slid  on  a 
cellar-door  for — well,  it  'pears  to  be  years ;  I  got  to  go  to  church  and  sweat  and 
sweat — I  hate  them  ornery  sermons !  I  can't  ketch  a  fly  in  there,  I  can't  chaw, 
I  got  to  wear  shoes  all  Sunday.  The  widder  eats  by  a  bell ;  she  goes  to  bed  by  a 
bell;  she  gits  up  by  a  bell — everything's  so  awful  reg'lar  a  body  can't  stand  it." 

"Well,  everybody  does  that  way,  Huck." 

"Tom,  it  don't  make  no  difference.  I  ain't  everybody,  and  I  can't  stand  it.  It's 
awful  to  be  tied  up  so.  And  grub  comes  too  easy — I  don't  take  no  interest  in 
vittles,  that  way.  I  got  to  ask,  to  go  a-fishing ;  I  got  to  ask,  to  go  in  a-swimming — 
dern'd  if  I  hain't  got  to  ask  to  do  everything.  Well,  I'd  got  to  talk  so  nice  it  wasn't 


POOR  HUCK! 


271 


no  comfort — I'd  got  to  go  up  in  the  attic  and  rip  out  a  while,  every  day,  to  git  a 
taste  in  my  mouth,  or  I'd  a  died,  Tom.  The  widder  wouldn't  let  me  smoke ;  she 
wouldn't  let  me  yell,  she  wouldn't  let  me  gape,  nor  stretch,  nor  scratch,  before 
folks — "  [Then  with  a  spasm  of  special  irritation  and  injury], — "And  dad  fetch 
it,  she  prayed  all  the  time !  I  never  see  such  a  woman  !  I  had  to'  shove,  Tom — I 
just  had  to.  And  besides,  that  school's  going  to  open,  and  I'd  a  had  to  go  to  it — 


COMFORTABLE    ONCE    MORE. 


well,  I  wouldn't  stand  that,  Tom.  Lookyhere,  Tom,  being  rich  ain't  what  it's 
cracked  up  to  be.  It's  just  worry  and  worry,  and  sweat  and  sweat,  and  a-wishing 
you  was  dead  all  the  time.  Now  these  clothes  suits  me,  and  this  bar'l  suits  me, 
and  I  ain't  ever  going  to  shake  'em  any  more.  Tom,  I  wouldn't  ever  got  into  all. 
this  trouble  if  it  hadn't  'a'  been  for  that  money;  now  you  just  take  my  sheer  of  it 
along  with  your'n,  and  gimme  a  ten-center  sometimes — not  many  times,  becuz  I 


272  TOM  SAWYER. 


don't  give  a  dern  for  a  thing  'thout  it's  tollable  hard  to  git — and  you  go  and  beg. 
off  for  me  with  the  widder." 

"  Oh,  Huck,  you  know  I  can't  do  that.  'Taint  fair ;  and  besides  if  you'll  try 
this  thing  just  a  while  longer  you'll  come  to  like  it." 

"  Like  it !  Yes— the  way  I'd  like  a  hot  stove  if  I  was  to  set  on  it  long  enough- 
No,  Tom,  I  won't  be  rich,  and  I  won't  live  in  them  cussed  smothery  houses.  I 
like  the  woods,  and  the  river,  and  hogsheads,  and  I'll  stick  to  'em,  too.  Blame 
it  all!  just  as  we'd  got  guns,  and  a  cave,  and  all  just  fixed  to  rob,  here  this  dern 
foolishness  has  got  to  come  up  and  spile  it  all!  " 

Tom  saw  his  opportunity — 

"Lookyhere,  Huck,  being  rich  ain't  going  to  keep  me  back  from  turning 
robber." 

"  No  !     Oh,  good-licks,  are  you  in  real  dead-wood  earnest,  Tom  ?  " 

"Just  as  dead  earnest  as  I'm  a  sitting  here.  But  Huck,  we  can't  let  you  into- 
the  gang  if  you  ain't  respectable,  you  know." 

Huck's  joy  was  quenched. 

"  Can't  let  me  in,  Tom  ?     Didn't  you  let  me  go  for  a  pirate  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  that's  different.  A  robber  is  more  high-toned  than  what  a  pirate  is — 
as  a  general  thing.  In  most  countries  they're  awful  high  up  in  the  nobility — 
dukes  and  such." 

" Now  Tom,  hain't  you  always  ben  -friendly  to  me?  You  wouldn't  shet  me  out, 
would  you,  Tom?  You  wouldn't  do  that,  now,  would  you,  Tom?  " 

"  Huck,  I  wouldn't  want  to,  and  I  don't  want  to — but  what  would  people  say? 
Why  they'd  say,  'Mph!  Tom  Sawyer's  Gang!  pretty  low  characters  in  it!' 
They'd  mean  you,  Huck.  You  wouldn't  like  that,  and  I  wouldn't." 

Huck  was  silent  for  some  time,  engaged  in  a  mental  struggle.     Finally  he  said : 

"  Well,  I'll  go  back  to  the  widder  for  a  month  and  tackle  it  and  see  if  I  can 
come  to  stand  it,  if  you'll  let  me  b'long  to  the  gang,  Tom." 

"All  right,  Huck,  it's  a  whiz !  Come  along,  old  chap,  and  I'll  ask  the  widow 
to  let  up  on  you  a  little,  Huck." 

"  Will  you  Tom — now  will  you?  That's  good.  If  she'll  let  up  on  some  of  the 
roughest  things,  I'll  smoke  private  and  cuss  private,  and  crowd  through  or  bust. 
When  you  going  to  start  the  gang  and  turn  robbers  ?  " 


NEW  ADVENTURES  PLANNED. 


273 


"  Oh,  right  off.     We'll  get  the  boys  together  and  have  the  initiation  to-night, 
maybe." 

"  Have  the  which  ?  " 

"  Have  the  initiation." 

"What's  that?" 

"  It's  to  swear  to  stand  by  one  another,  and  never  tell  the  gang's  secrets,  even 


HIGH    UP    IN    SOCIETY. 

if  you're  chopped  all  to  flinders,  and  kill  anybody  and  all  his  family  that  hurts  one 
of  the  gang." 

"That's  gay — that's  mighty  gay,  Tom,  I  tell  you." 

"Well  I  bet  it  is.     And  all  that  swearing's  got  to  be  done  at  midnight,  in  the 
lonesotnest,  awfulest  place  you  can  find — a  ha'nted  house  is  the  best,  but  they're 
all  ripped  up  now." 
18 


274 


TOM  SA  WYER. 


"Well,  midnight's  good,  anyway,  Tom." 

"Yes,  so  it  is.     And  you've  got  to  swear  on  a  coffin,  and  sign  it  with  blood." 
"Now   that's   something  like!     Why  it's   a   million  times  bullier  than  pirating. 
I'll   stick  to  the  widder  till  I   rot,  Tom  ;  and  if  I  git  to  be  a  reg'lar  ripper  of  a 
robber,  and  everybody  talking  'bout  it,  I  reckon  she'll  be  proud  she  snaked  me  in 
out  of  the  wet." 


CONCLUSION. 


So  endeth  this  chronicle.  It  being  strictly  a  history  of  a  boy,  it  must  stop  here ; 
the  story  could  not  go  much  further  without  becoming  the  history  of  a  man. 
When  one  writes  a  novel  about  grown  people,  he  knows  exactly  where  to  stop- 
that  is,  with  a  marriage ;  but  when  he  writes  of  juveniles,  he  must  stop  where  he 
best  can. 

Most  of  the  characters  that  perform  in  this  book  still  live,  and  are  prosperous 
and  happy.  Some  day  it  may  seem  worth  while  to  take  up  the  story  of  the 
younger  ones  again  and  see  what  sort  of  men  and  women  they  turned  out  to  be ; 
therefore  it  will  be  wisest  not  to  reveal  any  of  that  part  of  their  lives  at  present. 


THE  END. 


P^~Full  Descriptive   Circulars  of  any  Book  on.  this  Catalogue  sent  free, 
also  Terms  to  Agents  -when  desired,  which,  are  most  liberal. 


Catalogue  of  Books  Published  by  the 

AMERICAN   PUBLISHING   COMPANY, 

HERTFORD,  CONN. 

BRANCH  OFFICES,  CHICAGO,  ILL.  &  CINCINNATI,  OHIO. 
REVISED  DECEMBER  1st,  1876. 

ADVENTURES  OF  TOM  SAWYER.  MARK  TWAIN'S  last  work.  150  Engravings.  New, 
Bright,  and  Refreshing.  A  Splendid  Gift  Book. 

THE  TRUE-BLUE  LAWS  OF  CONNECTICUT.  Edited  by  the  HON.  J.  HAMMOND 
TRUMBULL,  LL.  D.,  with  Historical  Introduction.  An  entirely  new  rendering  of  a  very 
old  story.  This  book  should  be  in  the  library  of  every  lawyer  and  man  of  intellect,  and 
read  by  everybody.  It  is  as  amusing  as  it  is  instructive. 

GABRIEL  CONROY.    BRET  HARTE'S   great  Work.    Now  first  published  in  book  form. 
Critics     have    pronounced    it    the    most   fascinating  work    of    the  day.    A  beautiful 
Octavo  volume  of  533  pages,  including  cuts.  '  33  Full  Page  Illustrations. 
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THE  BIG  BONANZA  :  An  authentic  account  of  the  discovery,  development  and  won- 
derful exhibit  of  the  great  Comstock  Silver  Lode  ;  Sketches  of  the  most  Prominent 
Men  interested  in  the  mines;  Incidents  and  Adventures;  Humorous  Stories;  Amusing 
Experiences;  Anecdotes,  &c.,  &c.  A  rollicking  book,  by  the  famous  writer  DAN  DE- 
QUILLE,  with  an  Introduction  by  Mark  Twain.  A  book  for  the  times.  An  elegant 
Octavo  of  about  600  pages,  66  full  page  and  many  text  Engravings. 

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MY  WINTER  ON  THE  NILE  AMONG  THE  MUMMIES  AND  MOSLEMS  :  By  CHAS.  DUDLEY 
WARNER.  Author  of  "My  Summer  in  a  Garden,"  "Back-Log  Studies,"  &c.,  &c.  A 
delightful  book  of  Egyptian  travel.  Octavo,  477  pages. 

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BIBLE  LANDS  ILLUSTRATED.  By  Rev.  H.  C.  FISH,  D.  D.  A  Pictorial  Handbook  of 
Bible  Lands  and  Christian  Antiquities.  Interesting  to  both  old  and  young.  Over  900 
Pages.  600  Engravings  and  maps. 

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D.  L.  MOODY  AND  HIS  WORK.    By  the  REV.  W.  H.  DANIELS.    The  Author  visited 
Great  Britain  and  took  part  in  the  revival  meetings  there,  and  this  book  is  a  complete 
Biography  of  Moody  and  Sankey,  and  a  full  account  of  their  labors  in  Great  Britain  and 
America,  including  those  in  Brooklyn,  Philadelphia  and  New  York.     It  is  the  only  Origi- 
nal lives  of  these  men  out,  and  is  Authentic.    519  Pages.     17  Full-page  Engravings.    , 
Price  in  Cloth.          Cloth,  Gilt  Edge.          Leather  (library  style).          Half  Morocco. 
$2.00  $2.50     '  $2.50  $3.50 

WI-NE-MA  (THE  WOMAN-CHIEF)  AND  HER  PEOPLE.  By  the  HON.  A.  B.  MEACHAM, 
Chairman  of  the  Modoc  Peace  Commissioners,  &c.  This  is  the  record  of  the  heroic 
Indian  woman,  who  at  the  risk  of  her  own  life  saved  the  author  from  butchery  at  the 
time  of  the  assassination  of  Gen  Canby  and  part  of  his  associates  by  the  Modocs.  .12mo. 

ii.  168  Pages.    16  Engravings.     Price  in  Cloth   $1.00. 

FAC-SIMILE  OF  GEN'L  WASHINGTON'S  ACCOUNT  WITH  THE  UNITED  STATES, 
FROM  1775  TO  1783.  A  Centennial  Curiosity  worth  having.  By  permission  of  Congress 
the  original  account  book  of  Gen'l  Washington  was  taken  from  the  archives  at  Washing- 
ton, lithographed  and  printed,  and  this  volume  is  a  perfect  fac-simile  in  every  respect  of 
the  original.  Price  $2.50. 


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THE  NEWGATE  OF  CONNECTICUT.  By  R.  H.  PHELPS.  A  History  of  the  cele- 
brated Simsbury  mines,  the  historical  prison  in  which  Tories  were  confined  during  the 
Revolutionary  war  a  hundred  years  ago,  and  used  as  a  State's  Prison  for  years  afterwards. 
The  only  book  of  its  kind,  and  intensely  interesting.  Illustrated  with  views  of  the  old 
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The  foregoing  Books  are  all  new  and  just  from  the  Press. 

*  SCRIPTURE  READING  LESSONS,  AN  AID  TO  FAMILY  WOBSHIP.    By  REV.  J.  T. 
CHAMPLAIN,  D.  D.    Destined  to  fill  a  place  long  void.    To  every  family  where  Family 
Worship  is  observed,  it  will  prove  invaluable.    It  covers  the  whole  Bible  and  is  free  from 
anything  sectarian.    It  will  be  sold  at  an  extremely  low  price  in  order  ip  place  it  in  the 
reach  of  all. 

*  INDIA:  ITS  PRINCES  AND  ITS  PEOPLB.    By  MES.  JULIA  A.  STONE.    A  Magnificent  Book, 
Splendidly  Illustrated.     It  is  a  sensible,  shrewd,  American  woman's  description  of  India 
and  its  People,  after  a  residence  there  of  years,  during  which  she  journeyed  over  all 
parts  of  the  country,  up  and  down  the  Ganges,  etc.    A  work  of  most  thrilling  interest. 

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SKETCHES   NEW  AND    OLD.     By  MARK   TWAIN.      Among  them  the  story  of  the 
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INNOCENTS  ABROAD :  OK  THE  NEW  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.     By  MARK  TWAIN.    Every- 
body has  heard  of  this  book.     Fully  Illustrated.     652  Pages,  234  Engravings. 
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ROUGHING  IT.  By  MARK  TWAIN.  A  companion  volume  to  Innocents  Abroad.  Full 
of  Twain's  characteristic  humor.  600  Pages,  300  Illustrations. 

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THE  GILDED  AGE.  By  MARK  TWAIN  and  CHARLES  DUDLEY  WARNER.  A  tale  of  To- 
Day.  Wit,  Humor,  and  Romance  combined.  576  Pages,  212  Illustrations. 

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MY  OPINIONS  AND  BETSEY  BOBBET'S.  By  JOSIAH  ALLEN'S  WIFE.  A  home  book, 
full  of  humor,  sarcasm,  and  instruction.  One  of  the  most  amusing  books  ever  written. 
432  Pages.  12mo.  50  Illustrations. 

Price  in  Cloth,  $2.50.  Cloth,  Gilt  Edges,  $3.00.  Half  Morocco,  $4.00. 

THE  GREAT  SOUTH.    By  EDWARD  KING.    Illustrated  from  sketches  by  J.  WELLS 

CHAMPNEY.    A  record  of  journeyings  in  all  the  South  in  1872  and  73.     This  book  has  won 

a  world  wide  reputation  both  for  beauty  and  for  faithful  portrayal  of  the  South  as  it  is. 

Magnificently  illustrated.    Large  Octavo,  810  Pages.     Maps  and  Engravings  over  600. 

Price  in  Cloth.  Plain  Leather.  Half  Morocco.  Fall  Morocco. 

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THE  WORLD  OF  WIT  AND  HUMOR.  An  unique  book.  A  collection  of  famous 
humorous  sketches  and  poems,  from  the  pens  of  the  most  celebrated  writers.  Such 
poems  as  "Nothing  to  Wear,"  "The  Heathen  Chinee,"  and  "The  Wonderful  One- 
Horse  Shay,"  are  here  collected  and  illustrated,  and  scores  of  equally  noted  prose 
sketches.  A  beautiful  volume  just  adapted  to  the  parlor  table.  Large  Octavo,  500  Pages. 
450  Engravings. 

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SQUIBS,  OR  EVERY  DAY  LiFB  ILLUSTRATED    By  Palmer  Cox.    One  of  the  funniest  books 
ever  written.     A  record  of  sights  seen  by  the  author  in  his  walks  about  town  and  sketch- 
ed by  him  on  the  spot.    A  book  to  read  and  laugh  over.  12mo.  500  Pages.  200  Engravings. 
Price  in  Cloth,   $2.00.  Cloth,  Gilt  Edges,  $2.50.  Half  Morocco,  $4.00. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  DEMOCRACY,  OR  POLITICAL  PROGRESS  Historically  Illustrated 
from  the  Earliest  to  the  Latest  Periods.  By  HON.  NAHUM  CAPEN.  A  work  of  the 
greatest  value,  and  should  be  in  every  library.  Large  Royal  Octavo,  677  Pages.  Steel 
Illustrations. 

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UNWRITTEN  HISTORY  OR  LIFE  AMONG  THE  MODOCS.  By  JOAQUIN  MILLER.  A 
most  fascinating  Indian  story,  showing  the  real  life  of  the  Indian  and  the  injustice  he 
meets  with.  Octavo,  446  Pages.  34  Full  page  Engravings. 

Price  in  Cloth,  $3.00.  Library,  $3.60.  Half  Morocco,  $4.50. 

A  BOOK  ON  TOBACCO  :  Its  History,  Varieties,  Culture,  Manufacture,  Commerce,  and 
Various  modes  of  use  in  different  parts  of  the  World,  &c.  By  E.  R.  BILLINGS.  A 
complete  novelty.  486  Pages.  Nearly  200  Engravings. 

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MY   CAPTIVITY  AMONG   THE  SIOUX.    By  Mrs.  FANNY  KELLY.    The  extraordinary 
story  of  a  woman  captured  by  the  Indians;  her  life  among  them;  and  her  wonderful 
escape.     Finely  Illustrated  on  Wood  and  Steel.     300  Pages.    12mo. 
Price  in  Fine  English  Cloth,  $1.50. 

THE  UNCIVILIZED  RACES :  OR  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  MAN.    By  the  REV.  J.  G.  WOOD, 
M.  A.,  F.  R.S.  <fec.     An  exact  reprint  of  the  English  Edition,  with  large  additions  by  an 
American  traveller ;  an  invaluable  addition  to  a  library ;  in  one  or  two  volumes, 
1681  pages.     715  Engravings. 

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AGRICULTURE.  By  ALEXANDER  HYDE.  Being  Twelve  Lectures  before  the  Lowell 
Institute,  Boston.  Mass.  A  rare  book  for  the  farmer.  12mo.  370  Pages.  Price  $1.50. 

PEOPLE  FROM  THE  OTHER  WORLD.  By  COL.  H.  S.  OLCOTT.  The  wonderful  doings 
of  the  "  Eddy  Brothers,"  and  other  noted  spiritualists,  with  tests  applied  by  the  author. 
12mo.  492  Pages.  50  Full  page  Engravings. 

Price  in  Cloth,  $2.50.  Cloth,  Gilt  Edges,  $3.00.  Half  Turkey,  $4.00. 

BEYOND    THE   MISSISSIPPI.    By  A.    D.    RICHARDSON.     Having  an  immense  sale.     A 
work  too  well  known  to  need  a  description.     630  Pages.   216  Engravings. 
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PERSONAL  HISTORY  OF  U.  S.  GRANT.  By  A.  D.  RICHARDSON.  The  only  authen- 
tic and  full  life  of  this  famous  man.  560  Pages,  25  Engravings. 

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FIELD,  DUNGEON  AND  ESCAPE.    By  A.  D.  RICHARDSON.    The  noted  record  of  the 
capture,  imprisonment  and  escape  of  the  lamented  author  during  the  civil  war. 
512  pages,  10  steel  and  wood  Engravings. 

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THE  GREAT  REBELLION;  A  HISTORY    OF    THE  CIVIL  WAR  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 
By  HON.  J.  T.  HEADLEY.     The  most  complete  and  cheapest  history  out. 
1206  Pages  and  70  steel  Engravings. 

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In  two  Vols.    $3.50  each  vol.    $4.00  each  vol.         $4.00  each  vol.        $5.00  each  vol. 

ILLUSTRATED  HISTORY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  By  J.  E.  STEBBINS.  Containing  Bio- 
graphical sketches  of  most  of  the  noted  characters  in  the  Bible.  A  valuable  and  instruct- 
ive book.  608  Pages,  18  Full  Page  steel  Engravings,  1  Map. 

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HISTORY  OF  THE  INDIAN  RACES  OF   THE  WESTERN  CONTINENT.    By  CHAS. 
DEWOLFF  BROWNBLL.    Brought  down  to  end  of  the  Modoc  war. 
760  Pages.    40  full-page  Engravings,  plain  and  colored. 

Price  in  English  Cloth,  $3.50.  Leather  (library  style),  $4.00. 

EVERYBODY'S  FRIEND  :  OB  JOSH   BILLING'S  PROVERBIAL   PHILOSOPHY  OF  WIT  AND 
HUMOR.     Profusely  Illustrated  by  Thos.  Nast,  &c.    129  Engravings. 
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SIGHTS  AND  SENSATIONS  IN  EUROPE.  By  JUNIUS  HENRI  BROWNE.  Travel  and 
Sight-seeing  in  Europe,  Ireland,  Spain,  Germany,  Holland,  &c;  with  an  account  of 
persons  ana  places  connected  with  the  Franco-Prussian  war.  A  book  of  rare  and 
exciting  interest.  Octavo,  591  Pages.  70  Illustrations. 

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OVERLAND  THROUGH  ASIA.  By  THOMAS  W.  KNOX.  Pictures  of  Siberian,  Chinese 
and  Tartar  life.  A  splendid  work,  full  of  interest.  Octavo.  608  Pages.  193  Engra- 

V]Price  in  Cloth.      Cloth,  Gilt  Edges.      Leather  (library  style).     Half  Morocco.      Full  Morocco. 
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THE  GREAT  METROPOLIS.  A  Mirror  of  New  York.  A  complete  showing  up  of  the 
great  Metropolis  inside  and  out.  By  JUNIUS  HENRI  BROWNE.  Octavo,  700  Pages.  26 
Engravings. 

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HOLIDAY  BOOKS.  Most  fascinating  for  Boys  and  Girls.  Almost  every  page  illustrated. 
STORIES  ABOUT  BIRDS.  Price  $2.50.  STORIES  ABOUT  ANIMALS.  Price  $2.50. 

PEBBLES  AND  PEARLS,         "       1.25. 

THE  HOLY  BIBLE,  with  Apocrypha  and  Concordance  (the  authorized  edition) ;  to  which 
are  added  Canne's  Marginal  References;  Index  and  Table  of  Texts,  and  an  account 
of  the  Lives  and  Martyrdoms  of  the  Apostles  and  Evangelists.  Illustrated  with  numer- 
ous beautifully  executed  Steel  Plates.  The  cheapest  Bible  made.  Price  $6.00  to  $13.00 

THE  HOLY  BIBLE,  containing  the  Old  and  New  Testaments.  Translated  Literally  from 
the  Original  Tongues.  By  JULIA  E.  SMITH.  Price  $3.00. 


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